THF  MAN 

1  I  IJLj    1  imi  ^ 

WHO 


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RY  JOHN  P  RITTPR 
o  I    M^/ri i^   • «  IAI  i    ••,£•.!% 


EVEN  THE     TERRIBLE     GUILLOTINE,   DISAPPEARED     FROM 
THEIR  CONSCIOUSNESS  LIKE    THE    PHANTASMS  OF  A 

DREAM. — Page  262.  frontispiece. 


THE  MAN 
WHO  DARED 

By    JOHN  P.  RITTER 

A  HISTORICAL    ROMANCE    OF    THE 
TIME  OF  ROBESPIERRE 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 

GEORGE  ELMER  BROWNE 

PS1YATE      L1MAB1  , 
JSiT,      <!0}>        1   G7 


G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 

MDCCCXCIX. 


COPYRIGHT    1899,    BY 

FRANK  A.  MUNSEY. 


COPYRIGHT  1899,  BY 
G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  CO. 

\All  r^ht:  reserved.} 


The  Man  Who  Dared. 


THE   AUTHOR  DEDICATES  THIS 

NOVEL  TO   HIS  FRIEND. 

M.  J.   C. 


PREFACE. 


In  justice  to  himself,  the  author  of  the  following 
historical  romance  is  anxious  that  its  readers  shall 
understand  that  he  would  never  have  ventured  to  write 
it,  if  he  had  known  that  the  great  Sardou  had  chosen 
the  same  theme  for  his  wonderful  tragedy,  "Robes- 
pierre," which  Henry  Irving  is  now  playing  with  such 
success  in  London. 

Having  always  been  a  delighted  reader  of  French 
History,  he  naturally  perceived  the  splendid  possibili- 
ties for  an  interesting  novel  which  the  thrilling  events 
connected  with  Robespierre's  last  days  of  despotism 
presented.  For  many  months,  the  plot  and  incidents 
of  his  narrative  gradually  assumed  definite  form  in  his 
mind,  and,  when  he  was  called  upon  to  produce  a 
short  novel  for  a  current  publication,  he  chose  Robes- 
pierre's downfall  as  his  theme. 

The  romance,  as  it  originally  appeared,  having  ex- 
cited some  attention  from  those  who  read  it,  he  re- 
solved to  make  many  radical  alterations  in  the  plot, 
to  endue  it  with  greater  historical  value,  and  to  enlarge 
it  to  its  present  dimensions.  In  short  he  has  devel- 

[51 


6  PREFACE. 

oped  a  hastily  written  sketch,  into  a  book  of  double 
its  size,  trusting  that  the  extra  study  and  labor  in- 
volved in  the  task  will  not  prove  to  have  been  spent 
in  vain. 

One  merit  he  can  claim  for  his  romance,  if  no  other. 
He  has  scrupulously  followed  the  facts  and  traditions 
of  the  period  treated,  and  has  taken  but  few  liberties 
with  the  really  historical  personages  whom  he  has  de- 
scribed. If  the  reader  finds  other  merits  in  the  narra- 
tive; if  he  can  conscientiously  praise  it  for  its  realism, 
plot,  or  style,  the  author  will  feel  that  his  difficult 
task  has  been  rewarded. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGK 

I.  An  Interruption  to  the  Ball        .         .       9 

II.  A  Man  of  Mystery      .        .        .         .19 

III.  Robespierre         .        .         .        .        .27 

IV.  Jean  Lou  vet 36 

V.  At  the  Rabble's  Mercy       .        .         -     45 

VI.  A  Conference  in  the  Maison  Rousseau.     5  3 

VII.   Robespierre's  Rise  to  Power       .         -63 

VIII.  Jean  Louvet  Opens  the  Game    .         -77 

IX.  Love  Conquers  Discretion          .        .87 

X.  What  Befell  Andr6  the  Barber    .         .92 

XI.  How  it  Fared  with  Simon  the  Jailer  .  102 

XII.  The    Adventures     of    Francois    the 

Idler 113 

XIII.  Face  to  Face 121 

XIV.  A  Woman's  Sense  of  Honor        .         .134 
XV.  Andre  Departs  on  a  Mission        .         .146 

XVI.  Simon  Experiences  a  Surprise    .         .153 
XVII.  Fran9ois  Resorts  to  Strategy      .        .159 
XVIII.  The    Conspirators    Report    to   Their 

Chief 166 

XIX.  The  Banquet 173 

[7] 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTK*  PAGI 

XX.  The  Fatal  List     .        .        .        .  .182 

XXI.  Events  Crowd  and  Jostle    .         .  .193 

XXII.  The  Game  Grows  Exciting         .  .202 

XXIII.  Among  the  Condemned      .         .  .209 

XXIV.  Chalk  Marks  that  Disappeared    .  .217 
XXV.  The  Sounding  Board  Ceases  to  Re- 
spond   226 

XXVI.  Lost  Beyond  Hope      .         .         .         .233 
XXVII.  The  Ninth  of  Thermidor    .        .        .240 

XXVIII.  Too  Late 249 

XXIX.  Within  Sight  of  the  Guillotine     .         .257 

XXX.  The  Game  Still  Doubtful    .        .         .267 

XXXI.  The  Game  is  Won       .        .        .        .277 


PB1YATE      ilEBABY  , 
JSST,      <OFD*        >  ,7 


THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 


CHAPTER   I. 

AN  INTERRUPTION  TO  THE  BALL. 

IT  was  during  the  last  days  of  the  Reign  of  Terror 
that  Representative  Alphonse  Vauban  gave  a  ball, 
in  his  mansion  on  the  Rue  Saint  Honore,  in  honor  of 
Robespierre. 

The  entire  building  glared  with  lights.  Every  apart- 
ment from  basement  to  attic  was  thrown  open  to  the 
guests,  who  crowded  the  dancers  in  the  ballroom, 
jostled  one  another  on  the  stairways,  and  thronged 
the  upper  chambers;  for,  as  became  a  good  repub- 
lican, M.  Vauban  had  invited  all  Paris  to  the  enter- 
tainment. 

Tallien  was  there,  and  Freron,  and  Collot  d'Herbois 
and  Barras,  with  other  famous  revolutionists,  min- 
gling promiscuously  with  the  rabble  of  citoyens  and 

[91 


IO  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

their  wives  in  a  spirit  of  equality  and  fraternity — all 
hobnobbing  cheerfully  in  celebrating  the  perpetual 
reign  of  liberty. 

Cheerfully  ? 

Aye,  with  an  enthusiastic  gaiety,  notwithstanding 
that  dread  terror  of  the  guillotine  lurked  deep  in  many 
a  heart. 

In  an  alcove  of  the  ballroom,  under  a  bower  of 
broad-leaved  palms,  stood  M.  Vauban  with  his  only 
daughter,  Louise,  extending  a  cordial  greeting  to  the 
butchers,  bakers,  and  candlestickmakers  of  Paris 
whom  victorious  "Sanscullotism"  had  raised  to  their 
own  social  level. 

"In  the  name  of  the  Republic,  welcome,  citoyen!" 
he  exclaimed  heartily,  as  he  shook  each  citizen  by  the 
hand. 

And  to  each  of  their  wives  : 

"My  greeting,  citoyenne,  in  the  name  of  liberty !" 

There  could  be  no  doubt  of  M.  Vauban's  sincerity 
in  expressing  himself  thus ;  for  his  honest  face  glowed, 
and  his  eyes  renewed  their  sparkle,  with  each  repetition 
of  the  words. 

But  a  close  observer  might  have  detected  a  certain 
condescending  air  in  the  beautiful  Louise,  which 
would  have  justified  the  suspicion  that  she  considered 
herself  superior  to  her  guests.  In  her  father's  hos- 
pitality there  was  downright  heartiness;  in  hers  a 
gracious  reserve.  And  this  difference  was  accen- 
tuated in  their  attire. 

M.  Vauban  wore  a  modest  black  tail-coat,  with  high 
rolling  collar,  and  broad  lapels;  black  cloth  knse- 


AN   INTERRUPTION   TO   THE   BALL.  II 

breeches,  silk  stockings  of  the  same  somber  hue,  and 
low-cut  shoes  with  plain  pewter  buckles. 

His  daughter,  on  the  other  hand,  was  most  sumpt- 
uously arrayed.  A  close-fitting  bodice  of  rich  silk, 
cut  low  in  the  neck  and  fastened  with  a  jeweled  clasp 
in  front,  and  a  clinging,  diaphanous  gown  showed 
her  exquisitely  molded  figure  to  advantage.  Costly 
bracelets  encircled  her  plump,  white  arms ;  a  circlet  of 
sparkling  brilliants  wound  round  her  swan-like  neck, 
and  her  glorious  black  hair  was  bound  by  bands  of 
gold,  and  twisted  in  a  Grecian  coil  behind. 

The  critical  citoyennes,  ever  ready  to  mark  the 
slightest  aristocratic  tendency  in  a  sister,  were  quick 
to  discern  that,  though  she  smiled  sweetly  upon  them 
as  they  passed  before  her,  her  luminous,  black  eyes 
seemed  to  look  over  their  heads.  She  addressed  them 
as  her  equals,  it  is  true,  yet  there  was  an  indefinable 
reservation  in  her  manner  which  held  them  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

Robed  like  a  princess,  and  of  a  refined  and  noble 
beauty,  it  is  probable  that  no  amount  of  condescension 
on  her  part  could  have  saved  her  from  their  jealous 
mistrust. 

But,  though  Louise  Vauban  was  not  popular  with 
the  women  of  Paris,  she  was  adored  by  the  men.  Rep- 
resentatives of  all  political  parties — Jacobins,  Moder- 
ates, Girondists,  Dantonists — agreed  in  calling  her  a 
model  daughter  of  the  Republic,  and  even  the  great 
Robespierre  himself  had  expressed  the  opinion  that 
she  was  an  example  for  all  the  women  of  new-born 
France  to  follow. 


12  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

All  men  admired  her,  and  many  of  the  younger 
ones  loved  her.  She  had  suitors  innumerable,  among 
them  acknowledged  leaders  in  the  affairs  of  the  Re- 
public, either  on  the  field  of  battle,  or  on  the  floor  of 
the  National  Convention. 

Many  of  these  suitors  hovered  round  her  now, 
assiduous  in  their  attentions,  although  they  knew  that 
their  gallantry  was  hopeless;  for  she  had  given  the 
world  plainly  to  understand  that  she  would  never 
marry.  Indeed,  she  loved  her  father  with  an  adoration 
that  absorbed  all  her  faculties,  and,  since  the  death  of 
her  mother,  had  resolved  to  devote  her  life  to  his 
happiness. 

Nor  was  M.  Vauban  unworthy  of  her  affection. 
Generous,  high  minded,  brave,  he  lived  for  but  two 
objects — his  daughter  and  the  Republic.  His  home 
life  was  beautiful  in  its  devotion ;  his  public  life  noble 
in  its  enthusiasm. 

Although  an  ardent  and  consistent  revolutionist,  he 
was  not  an  extremist  in  his  ideas.  He  had  deprecated 
the  execution  of  Louis  XVI,  opposed  the  acts  of  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal,  and  even  challenged  the  dis- 
pleasure of  Robespierre  by  protesting  against  his  san- 
guinary measures.  That  he  still  retained  the  friend- 
ship of  the  "Incorruptible  One"  was  due  to  his  hon- 
esty, rather  than  his  tact. 

It  had  been  announced  that  Robespierre  was  to  be 
the  honored  guest  of  the  evening,  and  his  arrival  was 
momentarily  expected;  but  the  hours  passed  and 
Robespierre  did  not  come. 

What  could  be  the  reason  for  his  absence  ?  Repre- 


AN  INTERRUPTION  TO   THE  BALL.  13 

sentatives  Tallien  and  Freron,  whispering  together  in 
a  sheltered  corner,  remarked  upon  the  circumstance. 

"Robespierre  keeps  away,  it  seems,"  said  Tallien. 
"If  he  does  not  drop  in  to  shake  hands  to-night,  let 
Vauban  beware !" 

"You  are  apprehensive,  Tallien,"  replied  Freron  re- 
assuringly. "You  must  remember  that  Robespierre 
has  been  keeping  much  to  himself  of  late.  He  has 
absented  himself  from  the  Committees  and  has  not 
appeared  in  the  Convention  for  over  a  month.  Why, 
then,  should  he  distinguish  this  gathering  with  his 
presence  ?" 

"Because  he  professes  to  be  Vauban's  friend.  Be- 
cause this  ball  is  given  in  his  honor." 

"But  if  he  is  Vauban's  friend,  as  you  say,  why, 
should  Vauban  beware  of  him  ?" 

"Have  you  forgotten  the  fate  of  Danton?"  asked 
Tallien,  in  tones  of  profound  solemnity.  "Was  not 
Danton  Robespierre's  friend  ?" 

"Mon  Dieu,  Tallien !"  exclaimed  Freron,  with  a 
shudder,  "you  positively  frighten  me.  If  Robespierre 
sacrifices  Vauban,  who  of  us  is  safe?" 

"Ah,  who  indeed?"  said  Tallien,  with  an  ominous 
shake  of  his  head.  "Certainly  neither  you  nor  I, 
Freron,  for  Robespierre  regards  us  as  his  enemies. 
Let  us  look  the  danger  squarely  in  the  face,  my  friend ! 
This  Maximilian  Robespierre  has  grown  so  mighty  of 
late  that  he  can  guillotine  whomever  he  chooses.  He 
is  the  virtual  dictator  of  France ;  for  he  has  so  terror- 
ized the  Convention  that  it  is  swayed  by  his  absolute 
will.  When  he  puts  a  motion,  none  dare  oppose  it; 


14  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

and,  if  he  should  appear  in  the  Convention  to-morrow 
and  demand  our  heads,  not  a  member  would  protest 
on  our  behalf." 

"Then  let  us  thank  God  he  absents  himself  from  the 
meetings !"  exclaimed  Freron  in  frightened  tones. 

"And  yet,"  continued  Tallien,  in  a  low,  appalling 
whisper,  "his  very  absence  bodes  us  no  good.  Do 
you  know  what  is  rumored,  Freron?" 

The  latter  cast  a  terrified  glance  at  his  companion, 
and  shook  his  head. 

"It  is  reported  that  Robespierre  is  meditating  a 
master  stroke  to  rid  the  Convention  of  his  remaining 
opponents.  You  know  the  process.  He  will  accuse 
them  of  treason  to  the  Republic,  and  hand  them  over 
to  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal  for  trial." 

"And  that,"  interrupted  Freron  excitedly,  "would 
mean  the  guillotine  for  all.  Mon  Dieu!  dare  no  one 
denounce  this  tyrant?" 

"No  one,"  returned  Tallien  gravely ;  "for  he  is  the 
absolute  master  in  France." 

At  that  moment  an  orchestra,  concealed  behind  a 
screen  of  palms,  broke  out  into  the  melodious  strains 
of  a  brisk  minuet,  and  a  space  was  cleared  in  the  ball- 
room for  those  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  dance. 
Louise  Vauban  left  her  father's  side,  and,  advancing 
on  the  arm  of  one  of  her  most  ardent  suitors,  tooik 
her  place  in  the  leading  set.  Others  followed  her  ex- 
ample; more  sets  were  quickly  formed,  and,  at  a  sig- 
nal from  the  bandmaster,  the  minuet  began. 

To  the  uncultured  citoyens  who  looked  on — the 
artisans  and  shopkeepers  of  Paris — it  was  an  entranc- 


AN  INTERRUPTION  TO  THE  BALL.  1$ 

ing  spectacle.  Unaccustomed  as  they  were  to  the 
graceful  pleasures  of  polite  society,  they  formed  a 
gaping  circle  round  the  dancers,  giving  expression  to 
their  admiration  by  rude  hand-clappings  and  shouts  of 
approval.  To  them  it  seemed  that  the  golden  age  of 
equality  had  indeed  arrived,  when  high  and  low,  rich 
and  poor,  should  amuse  themselves  in  common. 

Lights,  music,  flowers,  lovely  laughing  faces,  spar- 
kling jewels  and  eyes  that  outrivalled  them  in  brilliant 
luster — all  contributed  to  the  bewitching  effect  of  the 
picture.  In  lightly-unerring  gyrations,  the  dancers 
swam  hither  and  thither,  their  faces  flushed  with  ex- 
citement, as  their  forms  swayed  gracefully  in  time 
to  the  stirring  music.  They  put  forth  their  best  efforts 
to  win  the  applause  of  the  onlookers,  but,  though  they 
danced  well,  none  approached  Louise  Vauban  in  vi- 
vacity and  charm. 

Behold  how  her  pretty  foot  darts  down  an  inch  from 
her  partner's !  And  now  she  is  off  again ;  she  is  as  a 
flash  of  light.  Like  a  glittering  comet  she  travels  her 
ellipse,  radiant,  fascinating,  beautiful.  Happiness  is 
in  her  smile,  and  delight  in  the  gleam  of  her  dark  eyes. 

Those  who  beheld  her  in  that  triumphant,  joyous 
mood,  afterwards  declared  that  they  had  never  seen 
any  one  so  light-hearted.  Her  flow  of  spirits  was  so 
exuberant  that  it  was  contagious;  and,  all  uncon- 
sciously, the  faces  of  the  spectators  glowed,  and  their 
eyes  brightened  with  sympathetic  merriment,  as  they 
followed  her  movements. 

Suddenly  a  harsh  voice  broke  in  upon  the  music, 
and  vague  terror  filled  every  heart. 


l6  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"Is  Citizen  Vauban  present  ?" 

All  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  speaker,  and  a 
profound  hush  fell  upon  the  assemblage,  when  they 
beheld  an  officer  of  the  Municipal  Gendarmes  stand- 
ing in  the  doorway  of  the  ballroom. 

"Is  Citizen  Vauban  present?"  he  repeated. 

M.  Vauban  left  the  group  of  friends  with  whom  he 
was  conversing,  and  advanced  toward  the  intruder 
with  a  courteous  bow. 

"I  am  Vauban,"  he  said  calmly ;  "what  do  you  wish 
of  me?" 

"I  have  a  warrant  for  your  arrest  as  a  suspect," 
replied  the  officer  curtly.  "Come,  do  not  keep  my 
men  waiting,  for  they  have  other  work  to  do." 

While  speaking  he  motioned  toward  the  hall,  where 
six  stalwart  gendarmes  were  awaiting  his  command. 
For  a  moment  M.  Vauban's  face  paled ;  then,  turning 
toward  his  guests  with  an  air  of  exquisite  good  breed- 
ing, he  said  tranquilly : 

"The  Republic  requires  my  presence  elsewhere, 
friends;  but  do  not  let  my  absence  damp  your  pleas- 
ures. Continue  to  enjoy  yourselves,  and  I  shall  be 
well  content." 

Before  the  murmur  of  admiration  aroused  by  these 
words  had  subsided,  his  daughter  swept  majestically 
across  the  ballroom  and  confronted  the  officer. 

"So  you  have  come  to  arrest  my  father?"  she  cried, 
with  flashing  eyes.  "By  whose  order,  pray?  Produce 
your  warrant!" 

The  officer  drew  from  his  pocket  a  folded  document 


AN   INTERRUPTION   TO  THE   BALL.  I/ 

and  placed  it  in  her  hands.  With  trembling  fingers 
she  opened  it  and  ran  her  eyes  over  its  contents. 

It  was  an  order  for  the  arrest  of  Representative  Al- 
phonse  Vauban,  issued  by  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  in  session  that  very  evening.  Realizing  at  once 
that  her  beloved  father  was  doomed,  she  tore  the  docu- 
ment in  fragments  and  stamped  upon  the  pieces. 
Then,  taking  her  stand  in  front  of  him,  and  drawing 
herself  up  to  her  full  height: 

"Be  gone !"  she  cried  in  ringing  tones,  as  she  point- 
ed dramatically  toward  the  door. 

The  officer  hesitated,  while  a  faint  hum  of  approba- 
tion arose  from  the  assembled  guests. 

''Louise !"  entreated  her  father  gently.  "Would  you 
insult  the  dignity  of  the  Republic  ?  If  my  arrest  has 
been  ordered,  my  dear  child,  I  would  be  the  last  to 
oppose  the  authorities.  Come,  embrace  me  and  let 
me  go !" 

His  words  had  the  effect  of  inspiring  the  officer  to 
action.  In  the  performance  of  his  daily  duty,  he  had 
become  accustomed  to  scenes  like  this,  and  had 
learned  that  promptness  and  severity  were  the  only 
effectual  means  of  ending  them.  So  he  signaled  to 
his  men  to  come  forward  and  do  their  duty. 

Immediately  the  six  gendarmes  entered  the  ball- 
room silently,  and  laid  rude  hands  on  the  beautiful  girl. 
She  struggled  like  a  tigress  in  their  grasp,  crying  out 
to  her  lovers  and  admirers : 

"Will  you  see  me  insulted,  friends?  Will  no  one 
come  to  my  assistance?" 


18  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

In  the  meantime  the  officer  beckoned  to  M.  Vau- 
ban,  who,  casting  a  look  of  indescribable  yearning 
upon  his  child,  bowed  his  head  submissively  and 
quietly  left  the  house. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  MAN  OF  MYSTERY. 

ON  seeing  M.  Vauban  in  the  custody  of  their  of- 
ficer, the  gendarmes  unhanded  Louise,  and  followed 
them  into  the  street.  The  frantic  girl  took  a  few  steps 
after  them,  and  then,  realizing  how  utterly  futile  any 
attempt  to  join  her  father  would  be,  turned  and  stag- 
gered back  into  the  ballroom. 

She  was  conscious  of  a  hundred  pallid  faces  turned 
upon  her  with  looks  of  blended  consternation  and 
pity ;  of  the  suppressed  hum  of  excited  conversation ; 
then  a  mist  enveloped  her  senses,  and  she  sank  down 
upon  the  floor  in  a  swoon. 

When  she  recovered  consciousness,  and  looked 
around,  she  observed  that  the  guests,  who,  but  a  short 
time  before,  were  applauding  her  grace  and  beauty  to 
the  skies,  were  now  quietly  and  stealthily  taking  their 
departure — hurrying  away  with  terror  in  their  hearts 
from  that  ill-omened  house. 

"Take  heart,  deary !"  a  kind  voice  whispered  in  her 
ear.  "Remember  Robespierre  is  your  father's  friend 
and  will  doubtless  save  him." 

Louise  glanced  up  into  the  speaker's  face,  and  saw 
that  it  was  that  of  Marie,  her  faithful  maid,  who  had 
hastened  to  her  assistance 


20  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Under  her  skilful  ministrations  the  girl  quickly  re- 
vived, and,  as  she  gradually  regained  control  of  her 
faculties,  was  inspired  with  a  desperate  resolution. 

"Assist  me  to  arise,  Marie,"  she  murmured,  "and 
support  me  while  I  speak  to  our  guests." 

The  faithful  creature  obeyed,  and,  helping  her  mis- 
tress to  the  middle  of  the  great  ballroom,  wound  an 
arm  around  her  waist  and  sustained  her  drooping 
figure. 

"Do  not  desert  me  yet,  friends,"  she  began  faintly ; 
"for  there  are  some  among  you  to  whom  I  would 
like  to  address  a  few  words." 

If  she  was  beautiful  in  the  moment  of  her  triumph- 
ant happiness,  she  appeared  far  lovelier  now  in  the 
moment  of  her  supreme  despair.  In  the  struggle  with 
the  gendarmes,  her  magnificent  hair  had  escaped 
from  the  bands  which  confined  it,  and  hung  in  lux- 
uriant, wavy  tresses  over  her  fair  shoulders ;  her  face 
was  as  white  as  alabaster  and  infinitely  pathetic  in 
the  hopelessness  of  its  expression;  while  her  dark 
eyes  were  soft,  liquid,  and  appealing,  like  those  of  a 
sorrowing  angel. 

Casting  them  over  the  cowering  creatures  about 
her,  as  if  in  search  of  one  true  friend,  she  continued  in 
stronger  tones: 

"Many  here  have  protested  love  for  me ;  some  have 
even  sworn  that  they  would  regard  it  a  privilege  to 
die  for  me;  but  hitherto  I  have  loved  no  man.  I 
had  vowed  to  give  all  my  love  to  my  father.  But," 
she  added  with  sudden  energy,  "to  the  man  who  will 
save  him  from  the  guillotine,  I  swear  to  be  an  obedi- 


A  MAN  OF  MYSTERY.  21 

ent,  loving  slave  to  the  day  of  my  death.  To  that 
man  I  will  give  myself,  my  love,  my  fortune,  most 
willingly." 

She  paused  and  cast  another  look  around,  as  if  ex- 
pecting to  see  a  dozen  suitors  spring  forward  to  accept 
her  challenge;  but  not  a  single  man  responded.  At 
last  her  eyes  rested  upon  the  face  of  her  late  partner 
in  the  minuet,  General  Juvenal,  a  gallant  young  soldier 
of  rising  fame  in  the  Revolutionary  Army. 

"What,  Juvenal !"  she  cried,  "can  you  remain  silent 
after  your  ardent  vows  of  love  to  me  during  the  dance  ? 
Did  you  not  lay  your  heart  and  life  at  my  feet?" 

Thus  directly  appealed  to,  the  young  general  turned 
white  and  smiled  faintly. 

"My  heart  and  life,  it  is  true,  mademoiselle;  but 
not  my  honor,"  he  answered. 

And,  with  these  words,  he  left  the  room. 

Louise  broke  into  a  scornful  laugh. 

"And  yet  he  claimed  to  love  me !"  she  cried  with  a 
bitter  sneer. 

Then,  observing  another  of  her  suitors  standing  in 
the  alcove  of  a  window,  she  called  out : 

"But  there  stands  the  gallant  D'Espernay,  the  friend 
who  swore  he  would  go  to  the  guillotine,  if  I  should 
ask  him.  Come,  D'Espernay,  will  you  endeavor  to 
save  my  father?" 

The  man  addressed  trembled  slightly  at  having  his 
vain  boast  brought  home  to  him  before  so  many,  and 
stammered  out  this  lame  excuse: 

"However  willingly  I  would  die  for  you,  Made- 
moiselle Vauban,  I  am,  nevertheless,  a  loyal  son  of 


22  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

the  Republic.  If  your  father  has  failed  in  his  duty, 
I  must  respectfully  decline  to  interfere  on  his  behalf." 

And  D'Espernay  also  left  the  room. 

Again  Louise  broke  out  in  laughter,  only  this  time 
more  bitterly  and  hysterically  than  before. 

"Why,  surely,"  she  exclaimed,  "this  is  the  very 
golden  age  of  knight-errantry!  And  you,  M.  Vil- 
leneuve,  what  have  you  to  say  to  my  appeal?"  she 
cried  a  moment  after,  as  she  caught  sight  of  still  an- 
other of  her  lovers  endeavoring  to  steal  unobserved 
into  the  hall. 

M.  Villeneuve  shot  a  frightened  glance  over  his 
shoulder,  and  never  paused  to  make  answer. 

Louise  did  not  laugh  this  time,  for  she  realized  that 
she  was  utterly  abandoned.  Grim  terror  of  Robes- 
pierre and  his  ever-active  guillotine  had  evidently  de- 
prived all  men  of  their  bravery,  and  even  love  itself 
had  become  a  slave  of  fear. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  understand  this  scene, 
a  few  words  of  explanation  will  be  necessary.  During 
the  Reign  of  Terror,  when  Robespierre  was  at  the 
height  of  his  power,  no  man  in  France  could  say  with 
confidence  that  his  head  was  safe.  The  "Law  of  the 
Suspect"  was  enforced  with  tremendous  vigor,  and  to 
be  arrested  on  suspicion  meant  almost  certain  death. 

Nor  was  it  necessary  to  commit  some  overt  act 
against  the  Republic  for  one  to  fall  within  the  scope 
of  this  iniquitous  measure.  Men  and  women  were 
guillotined  for  simply  expressing  a  kindly  sympathy 
for  the  condemned.  To  weep  for  a  victim  of  the  guil- 


A  MAN  OF  MYSTERY.  23 

lotine,  even  if  the  unfortunate  person  was  a  near  and 
dear  relative,  was  equivalent  to  courting  death. 

Every  day,  at  sunset,  the  tumbrils,  filled  with  vic- 
tims, wound  their  way  slowly  through  the  streets  of 
Paris,  from  the  Conciergerie  Prison  to  the  place  of 
execution.  The  guillotine  reared  its  horrible  frame 
over  the  land,  and  all  men  trembled  in  its  shadow. 

"Lead  me  away,  Marie,"  moaned  poor  Louise 
faintly,  "I  can  expect  no  succor  here;  all  my  friends 
have  deserted  me.  Oh,  my  poor,  poor  father !  What 
can  I  do  to  save  you?" 

Marie  conducted  her  into  a  small  apartment,  adjoin- 
ing the  ballroom,  and  laid  her  gently  on  a  sofa.  Then 
she  went  up  into  the  banquet  hall  to  procure  wine 
and  cakes  for  her  refreshment.  While  returning  from 
this  errand,  she  passed  the  last  of  the  frightened  guests, 
hurrying  toward  the  door  that  communicated  with 
the  street,  and  was  so  enraged  at  their  cowardice  that 
she  abused  them  roundly  to  their  faces. 

"Ye  scurvy  knaves!"  she  cried,  "may  the  curse  of 
Heaven  rest  on  ye  for  the  way  ye  have  treated  my 
master !" 

But,  on  reaching  the  side  of  her  young  mistress,  she, 
became  as  gentle  and  tender  as  a  child.  With  words 
of  encouragement  and  hope,  she  pressed  her  to  eat 
and  drink  so  earnestly  that  Louise  had  not  the  heart 
to  refuse  her. 

"And  now,  deary,"  said  Marie,  when  her  mistress 
had  partaken  of  some  nourishment,  "I  will  take  you 
upstairs  to  your  room,  and  put  you  to  bed ;  for  you 
must  sleep  to  gain  strength  for  to-morrow.  Then, 


24  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

bright  and  early  in  the  morning,  we'll  go  to  Robes- 
pierre together,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  when  he  hears 
of  this  outrage,  he  will  have  your  good  father  set 
free." 

With  these  words,  she  put  her  arms  lovingly  around 
the  girl's  waist,  and  helped  her  to  rise  from  the  sofa. 
Then,  for  the  first  time,  they  became  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  a  third  person. 

A  young  man  of  a  frank,  noble  countenance,  was 
standing  in  the  doorway,  in  an  attitude  of  profound  re- 
spect, regarding  them  with  deep  interest. 

Seeing  that  the  women  started  back  affrighted  on 
beholding  him,  he  reassured  them  with  a  pleasant 
smile,  and  said,  bowing  politely : 

"Pardon  my  intrusion!  I  am  a  friend  who  desires 
to  render  you  a  service." 

"A  friend,  monsieur?"  exclaimed  Louise  in  aston- 
ishment. "Why,  I  do  not  even  know  you!" 

"True,"  answered  the  unknown  in  a  low,  musical 
voice;  "but,  Mademoiselle  Vauban,  you  are  well 
known  to  me.  I  have  long  admired  you  from  a  dis- 
tance, conscious  that  I  was  utterly  unworthy  of  your 
acquaintance.  Nor  would  I  have  ever  presumed  to 
seek  this  interview,  were  it  not  for  the  hope  I  enter- 
tain of  aiding  you." 

Louise  examined  the  stranger's  countenance  more 
closely,  and  was  struck  with  the  sincerity  it  expressed. 
The  open  brow,  the  finely-chiseled  features,  the  firm 
mouth  and  chin,  and  the  piercing,  blue  eyes  inspired 
her  with  a  feeling  of  confidence ;  and  yet  how  could 


"  PARDON     MY     INTRUSION  !     I    AM    A    FRIEND    WHO    .DE- 
SIRES   TO    RENDER    YOU    A    SERVICE." Page  24. 


A   MAN   OF   MYSTERY.  2$ 

this  obscure  young  man  assist  her  in  her  present  des- 
perate emergency? 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "I  thank  you  for  your  offer; 
but  I  fear  that  my  case  is  beyond  your  help." 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  replied  the  unknown. 
"Let  me  explain  myself,  mademoiselle!  I  am  an  ob- 
scure person,  it  is  true,  and  yet  I  have  resources  which 
the  greatest  men  might  envy.  Being  acquainted  with 
your  father,  I  came  here  at  his  invitation  to-night.  I 
was  a  witness  to  his  iniquitous  arrest,  and  to  the 
brutal  treatment  you  received  at  the  hands  of  the  gen- 
darmes. My  heart  prompted  me  to  rush  to  your 
rescue,  but  had  I  done  so  all  would  have  been  lost. 

"I  was  present  in  the  ballroom,  mademoiselle,  when 
you  appealed  to  your  craven-hearted  admirers  to  save 
your  father's  life.  I  saw  them  desert  you  one  by  one, 
and  then  vowed  that  I  would  champion  your  cause 
myself. 

"Understand,  mademoiselle,"  he  continued  with 
rare  delicacy,  "it  was  not  your  offer  of  yourself  and 
fortune  that  prompted  me  to  this  resolution.  It  was 
the  deep  love  and  respect  I  have  for  you,  nothing 
more.  Having  come  to  this  determination,  therefore, 
I  lingered  behind,  until  the  other  guests  had  departed, 
and  I  could'  see  you  alone.  And  now,  Mademoiselle 
Vauban,  allow  me  to  place  myself  at  your  disposal." 

Utterly  amazed  at  the  generosity  of  this  offer,  the 
girl  remained  for  a  while  silent.  It  seemed  so  odd 
that  she  should  be  befriended  by  a  total  stranger, 
at  a  time  when  even  those  who  professed  to  love  her 


26  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

had  failed  her,  that  her  mind  was  completely  bewil- 
dered. Observing  this,  the  stranger  quietly  resumed : 

"I  am  not  surprised,  mademoiselle,  that  you  should 
doubt  the  sincerity  of  my  offer,  or  my  ability  to  save 
your  father's  life.  Nevertheless,  I  assure  you  that  I 
am  worthy  of  your  trust,  and  am  by  no  means  as  pow- 
erless as  I  appear." 

"But  who  are  you?"  asked  Louise.  "What  is  your 
name  ?" 

The  stranger  fixed  upon  her  a  look  of  deep  signifi- 
cance, and  replied  ambiguously : 

"I  am  known  as  Jean  Lou  vet,  and  am  at  present  an 
humble  Representative  in  the  National  Convention." 

"And  your  politics?"  asked  Louise.  "Are  you  a 
Jacobin  ?" 

"My  politics,"  replied  the  unknown,  striking  upon 
his  breast  with  his  palm,  "are  kept  locked  up  here." 

The  girl  pondered  a  moment  doubtfully,  and  then, 
overwhelmed  with  an  emotion  of  sudden  gratitude, 
stretched  forth  her  hand  impulsively  to  the  young  man, 
with  the  fervent  exclamation : 

"I  trust  you,  M.  Louvet,  and  gratefully  accept  your 
brave  offer!  God  grant  you  may  not  lose  your  own 
head  in  trying  to  save  my  father's !" 

He  raised  the  hand  she  gave  him  to  his  lips  and 
kissed  it  reverently. 

"If  I  perish  in  your  service,  mademoiselle,  I  shall 
be  well  content,"  he  answered. 

And,  with  these  words,  departed  from  her  presence. 


CHAPTER   III. 

ROBESPIERRE. 

ON  the  morning  following  the  ball  at  M.  Vauban's, 
the  great  Robespierre  arose  from  the  bed  on  which  he 
had  tossed  through  a  restless  night,  and,  going  over 
to  a  window  that  opened  upon  the  Rue  Saint  Honore, 
drew  aside  the  curtains  and  looked  out. 

The  hot  July  sun  was  already  high  in  the  heavens, 
beating  down  upon  the  roofs  and  pavements  of  Paris 
with  fierce  intensity. 

"How  my  poor  head  aches !"  he  muttered,  passing 
a  long  hand  tremulously  across  his  sallow  brow.  "I 
feel  weak  and  sick  from  lack  of  sleep,  and  yet  I  never 
was  in  such  sore  need  of  all  my  strength  and  resolu- 
tion. The  Republic  is  threatened,  and  I  alone  can 
preserve  it.  And  yet,  how  ?" 

He  turned  from  the  window  with  an  exclamation  of 
impatience  and  despair. 

"Faugh!  I  am  heartily  sick  of  it  all!"  he  cried. 
"The  guillotine!  It  is  ever  the  guillotine  by  which 
the  cause  of  liberty  must  be  advanced.  The  guillotine 
for  one's  friends  even !" 

The  tears  started  to  his  eyes,  as  he  paced  nervously 
back  and  forth  between  the  door  of  his  chamber  and 
the  window,  combating  with  his  emotions. 

[27] 


28  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"Poor  Vauban !"  he  exclaimed  in  a  choked  voice. 
Would  that  I  could  save  you!  But  the  Republic  re- 
quires your  head,  and,  dear  friend  though  you  be,  you 
must  perish." 

His  yellow,  bloodshot  eyes  gleamed  with  fanaticism 
as  he  uttered  these  words,  and  his  thin  lips  closed 
together  in  an  expression  of  grim  resolve.  He  em- 
ployed the  ensuing  quarter  of  an  hour  in  dressing 
himself  with  scrupulous  neatness,  and  then  rang  for 
his  breakfast. 

The  meal,  which  consisted  of  a  single  roll,  an  egg, 
and  a  pot  of  coffee,  was  brought  into  the  room  by  his 
landlord,  an  humble  cabinetmaker  who  loved  him  de- 
votedly. 

"I  trust  you  slept  well  during  the  night,"  re- 
marked this  individual  with  extreme  solicitude,  as  he 
placed  the  frugal  repast  on  the  table  at  which  his  illus- 
trious tenant  had  seated  himself. 

"If  I  did  not,"  replied  Robespierre,  with  a  sickly 
smile,  "it  was  because  my  mind  was  busy  in  devising 
plans  for  the  happiness  of  our  beloved  country." 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Robespierre!"  returned  the  cabinet- 
maker admiringly,  "you  think  too  little  of  yourself. 
You  are  too  self-sacrificing." 

Robespierre  frowned. 

"You  forget  yourself,  my  friend,  in  addressing  me 
as  Monsieur,"  he  said  sternly.  "You  should  remember 
that  I  am  simply  Citizen  Robespierre,  the  brother 
of  all  true  Frenchmen.  It  is  a  title  in  which  I  glory, 
and  you  should  not  deprive  me  of  it.  As  to  sacrificing 
myself  for  the  Republic,"  he  added  with  ardor,  "it  is 


ROBESPIERRE.  2Q 

no  more  than  my  plain  duty.  If  the  Commonwealth 
should  require  my  head  to-morrow,  I  would  gladly 
give  it  up ;  or" — and  here  his  voice  trembled  slightly — 
"if  it  is  necessary  to  the  public  welfare  that  I  should 
send  my  dearest  friends  to  the  guillotine,  I  will  not 
hesitate  to  do  so." 

He  paused  to  sip  his  coffee  reflectively,  while  the 
cabinetmaker  stood  by,  regarding  him  with  adoring 
reverence.  Indeed,  it  was  small  wonder  that  this  enig- 
matical man  commanded  the  affections  and  confidence 
of  all  men  of  his  landlord's  class;  for  he  was  simple 
and  democratic  in  his  habits,  poor,  despite  his  great 
power  and  influence,  and  outspoken  in  his  utterances 
against  oppression. 

Although  no  greater  tyrant  ever  lived,  he  did  not 
oppress  the  poor  and  humble,  but  retained  his  sway 
over  their  hearts  by  professing  to  act  always  in  their 
interest.  Occupying  humble  lodgings,  when  he  might 
have  resided  in  a  palace,  he  appeared  to  them  as  the 
ideal  ruler  of  a  Commonwealth  founded  upon  the  prin- 
ciples of  liberty,  equality,  and  brotherhood,  and  so 
they  granted  him  their  unqualified  support. 

Realizing  from  his  tenant's  abstracted  manner  that 
he  desired  to  be  alone,  the  cabinetmaker  was  in  the 
act  of  withdrawing  quietly  from  the  room,  when  a 
servant  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Two  women  are  waiting  below  to  have  a  word 
with  you,  Citizen  Robespierre,"  she  announced. 

"Do  you  know  who  they  are?"  he  asked  suspicious- 
ly ;  for  ever  since  the  assassination  of  his  friend,  Marat, 


3O  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

by  Charlotte  Corday,  he  was  cautious  in  granting  in- 
terviews to  strangers. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  servant,  "I  know  them.  They 
are  Citizeness  Vauban  and  her  maid." 

Robespierre's  sallow  face  darkened. 

"Faugh!"  he  exclaimed,  in  tones  of  annoyance.  "I 
know  what  their  visit  means.  They  have  come  to 
plead  with  me  to  spare  Citizen  Vauban.  But  it  is  use- 
less ;  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  die." 

He  arose  from  the  table  with  an  air  of  vexation,  and 
resumed  his  pacing  of  the  apartment.  It  was  evident 
that  the  thought  of  meeting  his  visitors  disturbed  him 
greatly. 

"Why  will  not  people  leave  me  alone  in  the  per- 
formance of  my  duty?"  he  exclaimed.  "Why  must  I 
be  tortured  by  appeals  to  my  sympathies?  It  would 
be,  perhaps,  best  to  refuse  this  audience,  since  it  can 
only  result  in  pain.  And  yet,"  he  added,  running  his 
long  fingers  through  his  hair  distractedly,  "if  I  refuse 
to  receive  these  women,  my  motives  will  be  cruelly 
misjudged.  I  will  be  accused  of  sending  my  friend, 
Vauban,  to  the  guillotine  through  sheer  envy  and 
malice." 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  the  lines  of  his  face  hard- 
ened suddenly,  and,  turning  to  the  servant  with  an  im- 
perious gesture,  he  said  coldly : 

"Show  the  women  into  my  parlor,  and  tell  them 
I  will  be  with  them  presently." 

When  the  servant  had  departed,  Robespierre  went 
over  to  a  wardrobe,  and  took  from  it  a  sky-blue  coat, 
a  white-silk  waistcoat  embroidered  with  silver,  a  pair 


ROBESPIERRE.  31 

of  black  silk  breeches,  white  silk  stockings,  and  a  pair 
of  delicately  formed  shoes  with  buckles  of  gold.  For, 
in  spite  of  his  democratic  principles,  he  was  by  nature 
a  dandy,  who  always  appeared  neatly  and  elegantly  at- 
tired. In  fact,  vanity  in  dress  was  his  prevailing  weak- 
ness, leading  some  to  suspect  that  the  "Sanscullotism" 
he  professed  was  not  altogether  sincere. 

Having  carefully  arrayed  himself  in  these  garments, 
he  surveyed  his  person  in  the  mirror  with  an  air  of  ex- 
treme satisfaction,  and  then  walked  briskly  into  the 
little  parlor  where  the  ladies  were  awaiting  him. 

"To  what  may  I  attribute  the  honor  of  this  unex- 
pected visit,  Citizeness  Vauban?"  he  asked,  as  he  ad- 
vanced toward  them  with  a  polite  bow. 

Louise  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with  a  searching 
look,  and  replied,  evasively: 

"You  did  not  attend  our  ball  last  night,  M.  Robes- 
pierre, although  it  was  given  in  your  honor.  Why 
did  you  absent  yourself?  Has  my  father  offended 
you?" 

These  unexpected  inquiries,  accompanied  as  they 
were  by  a  glance  which  seemed  to  penetrate  the  deep- 
est recesses  of  his  soul,  brought  a  blush  to  the  tyrant's 
sallow  face.  He  managed  to  retain  his  composure, 
however,  and  answered: 

"My  time  is  not  always  at  my  disposal,  Citizeness 
Vauban.  I  am  a  servant  of  the  Republic,  you  must 
remember." 

"And  yet,"  went  on  Louise,  still  keeping  her  beauti- 
ful eyes  intently  fixed  on  his  countenance,  "it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  you  did  not  honor  us  with  your  pres- 


32  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

ence  last  night,  for  you  might  have  prevented  a  most 
wicked  outrage." 

"An  outrage?"  stammered  Robespierre,  with  an 
attempt  to  appear  astonished.  'What  do  you  mean?" 

"Simply  this,"  replied  Louise,  in  calm,  deliberate 
tones.  "During  the  height  of  the  festivities  last  night, 
a  company  of  gendarmes  entered  our  house  like  so 
many  bandits,  and  dragged  your  friend,  my  father,  off 
to  prison.  If  you  had  been  there,  M.  Robespierre,  you 
would  doubtless  have  saved  him,"  she  added  iron- 
ically. 

The  crafty  tyrant  was  fully  aware  of  the  irony  in  her 
last  words,  but  it  suited  his  purpose  to  ignore  it. 

"What!  my  friend  Vauban  arrested?"  he  cried,  as- 
suming an  air  of  surprise.  "And  by  whose  order, 
pray?" 

Still  looking  him  steadily  in  the  face,  Louise  an- 
swered slowly : 

"By  order  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  of 
which  you  are  a  privileged  member." 

At  this  the  wily  Robespierre  suddenly  affected  an 
air  of  alarm  and  solicitude. 

"Why,  the  affair  must  be  serious,"  he  said  gravely. 
"If  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  ordered  your 
father's  arrest,  it  must  be  for  some  excellent  reason. 
It  must  be  that  he  has  failed  in  his  duty  to  the  Re- 
public." 

"Indeed  ?"  sneered  the  girl  bitterly.  "If  that  be  so, 
M.  Robespierre,  it  appears  to  me  that  you,  his  friend, 
should  know  of  it,"  Then  suddenly  casting  aside  all 


ROBESPIERRE.  33 

> 

hypocrisy,  she  addressed  these  bold  words  to  the  ty- 
rant: 

"It  is  useless  for  you  to  pretend  ignorance  of  this 
affair,  M.  Robespierre,  for  it  was  you  yourself  who 
caused  my  father's  arrest.  In  some  way  he  has  of- 
fended you.  How,  I  do  not  pretend  to  know.  He  has 
lost  the  protection  of  your  friendship,  and  is  now  a 
prisoner  in  La  Force.  I  did  not  come  here  to  inform 
you  of  something  you  already  know,  but  to  appeal  to 
the  generosity  of  your  nature." 

She  rose  from  her  seat,  and  flung  herself  on  her 
knees  at  the  tyrant's  feet. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  good,  kind  M.  Robespierre!"  she 
cried,  in  heartrending  tones;  "do  not  let  me  appeal  to 
you  in  vain.  If  my  father  has  offended  you  in  any 
way,  believe  me,  it  was  not  through  intention.  He 
has  always  loved  and  respected  you,  believing  that 
you  were  his  dearest  friend.  Prove  now,  that  you 
deserve  his  trust  and  affection  by  saving  him  from  the 
guillotine.  You  are  great,  you  are  all-powerful,  and 
one  word  from  you  will  be  sufficient.  Oh,  say  that 
you  will  save  him,  and  keep  my  heart  from  breaking !" 

During  the  whole  of  this  passionate  entreaty,  Robes- 
pierre kept  his  face  averted  from  that  of  the  girl,  as 
if  fearful  that  his  resolution  would  give  way  before 
her  beauty.  When  she  paused  for  his  answer,  he 
turned  upon  her  a  troubled  look  and  said,  with  forced 
calmness : 

"You  overrate  my  power,  Citizeness  Vauban.  I  am 
but  an  humble  Representative  of  the  people." 

"Yet   one   whose   mere  word   is   absolute   law   in 


34  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

France,"  cried  Louise.  "Oh,  I  beseech  you  to  exert 
your  power  to  save  my  dear  father !" 

"But  if  he  is  guilty  ?"  returned  Robespierre.  "Would 
you  have  me  save  him  then?" 

"Guilty?  My  father  guilty?''  almost  screamed  the 
girl.  "Of  what  crime  does  he  stand  accused?  It  is 
said  he  is  a  suspect.  Suspected  of  what?  Dare  any 
one  accuse  him  of  treason  to  the  Republic?  Why, 
such  an  idea  is  monstrous;  his  whole  life  has  been 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  liberty.'* 

"You  plead  for  him  eloquently,"  said  Robespierre, 
beginning  to  soften. 

"Because  my  entreaties  are  prompted  by  love," 
sighed  Louise.  "And  yet,"  she  added  despairingly, 
"of  what  avail  are  any  words  of  mine?  It  was  only 
last  night,  M.  Robespierre,  that  I  appealed  to  those 
who  professed  to  love  me;  who  had  even  sworn  that 
they  would  die  for  me.  I  offered  myself  as  the  loving 
and  obedient  slave  forever  to  the  one  who  would  save 
my  father.  Yes,  I  vowed  that  I  would  give  myself, 
my  heart,  my  fortune  to  the  man  who  would  rescue 
him  from  death ;  but  it  was  in  vain.  One  by  one  they 
deserted  me,  and  I  was  left  disconsolate  and  alone." 

"And  does  your  offer  still  hold  good?"  asked 
Robespierre,  in  eager,  tremulous  tones. 

"It  still  holds  good,"  she  answered,  looking  up  into 
his  face  with  hope  and  fear  in  her  eyes. 

The  maid,  Marie,  who  had  been  a  silent  witness  of 
this  strange  scene,  observed  that  a  remarkable  change 
had  now  overspread  Robespierre's  somber  visage. 
For  a  brief  moment  it  was  transfigured  by  an  expres- 


ROBESPIERRE.  35 

sion  of  infinite  longing.  There  was  a  wondrous  soft- 
ness in  the  look  that  he  fixed  upon  the  girl  at  his  feet, 
and  a  happy  smile  parted  his  thin  lips. 

The  anxious  maid  was  beginning  to  hope  that  her 
mistress  had  triumphed  over  his  determination,  when 
the  tyrant  turned  away  with  a  sigh  that  seemed  to  rise 
from  his  heart's  depths,  and,  bowing  his  head  upon 
his  breast,  muttered  sternly : 

"Robespierre,  no  weakness." 

When  he  turned  toward  her  mistress  a  moment 
later,  his  bilious  face  was  of  a  livid,  greenish  hue,  and 
inflexible  in  the  resolution  it  expressed. 

"Come,  Citizeness  Vauban,"  he  cried,  in  a  hoarse, 
hollow  voice,  "let  us  put  an  end  to  this  painful  inter- 
view !  If  your  father  is  innocent,  it  will  appear  at  his 
trial.  If  he  is  guilty,  neither  you,  nor  I  should  raise 
a  finger  to  save  him.  The  Revolutionary  Tribunal 
will  decide  his  fate." 

And,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  hurried  from  the  room. 

"Oh,  merciful  God!"  moaned  the  wretched  Louise. 
"My  dear  father  is  lost  beyond  all  hope." 

Marie  put  her  arm  gently  around  her  waist  and 
whispered : 

"Do  not  despair,  my  dear  mistress.  Let  us  trust 
to  the  promise  of  the  stranger." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

JEAN  LOU  VET. 

WHILE  this  scene  was  being  enacted  in  the  humble 
lodgings  of  Robespierre,  another,  of  an  equally  dra- 
matic character,  was  taking  place  in  the  hall  of  the 
National  Convention.  St.  Just — one  of  Robespierre's 
closest  friends,  and  a  member  of  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal — had  ascended  the  tribune  to  propose  a 
measure  instigated  by  his  chief,  when  an  obscure  Rep- 
resentative arose  from  his  seat,  and  shouted  in  tones 
that  rang  through  the  building  like  the  notes  of  a 
bugle : 

"I  call  upon  all  true  Frenchmen  to  hear  me!" 

St.  Just  raised  his  eyes  in  astonishment  from  the 
written  speech  he  was  about  to  deliver ;  the  members 
all  turned  inquiring  looks  toward  the  speaker;  while 
President  Thuriot  extended  a  hand  toward  the  bell  on 
his  desk  to  ring  for  order.  Before  he  could  give  the 
signal,  however,  the  new  voice  cried  out: 

"The  time  has  arrived,  my  brothers,  for  this  Con- 
vention to  assert  its  independence.  The  citizen  who 
is  about  to  address  you  is  but  the  servile  tool  of  your 
oppressor — the  mouthpiece  of  the  absent  Robespierre. 
He  comes  here  to  propose  a  measure  devised  by  his 

[3*1 


JEAN  LOUVET.  37 

master.  He  believes  you  will  all  vote  for  it  through 
fear  of  the  man  he  represents.  But  will  you  ?" 

He  paused  and  cast  a  look  around  the  hall,  where 
the  drop  of  a  pin  could  have  been  heard  in  the  pro- 
found silence  that  reigned.  President  Thuriot  seized 
his  bell  and  rang  it  violently;  but  its  clanging  was 
drowned  in  the  speaker's  vibrant  voice,  as  he  resumed, 
with  a  gesture  of  defiance : 

"You  cannot  ring  me  down,  sir;  I  am  determined 
to  be  heard.  It  has  long  been  apparent  that  this  as- 
sembly is  spellbound  with  terror  of  one  man.  His 
will  is  its  law.  No  one  dare  oppose  him.  No  one, 
did  I  say?  Ah,  in  that  I  was  mistaken;  for  I,  Jean 
Louvet,  dare  to  raise  my  voice  against  him.  Yes, 
on  the  floor  of  this  Convention,  that  is  ruled  by  the 
will  of  Robespierre,  I  denounce  him  as  a  tyrant  and 
demand  his  accusation !" 

Again  you  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop,  so  silent 
was  the  hall. 

President  Thuriot  laid  down  his  bell,  and  sank  back 
in  his  chair  aghast.  Men  looked  into  each  other's 
faces,  and  saw  there,  as  in  a  mirror,  the  terror  of  their 
own  hearts  imaged  in  pallid  hues.  And  yet  the  major- 
ity of  Representatives  present  were  in  secret  sympathy 
with  the  speaker. 

It  was  a  moment  of  supreme  suspense. 

How  would  the  scales  move — for,  or  against,  Robes- 
pierre ?  One  resolute  word  was  sufficient  to  decide  the 
issue,  and  this  word  was  spoken,  but,  unfortunately, 
by  St.  Just. 


38  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

Realizing  that  a  tremendous  crisis  was  impending, 
he  called  out  contemptuously : 

"Why,  the  man  is  mad !"  Then,  turning  to  Thuriot, 
he  added,  in  tones  loud  enough  for  all  to  hear:  "I 
appeal  to  you,  Mr.  President,  to  have  this  disorderly 
person  removed  from  the  hall,  so  that  we  may  proceed 
with  our  business  undisturbed." 

These  timely  words  turned  the  scales  in  Robes- 
pierre's favor.  Representatives  of  all  political  parties 
sprang  to  their  feet,  shaking  their  fists  at  Jean  Louvet, 
and  hurling  threats  and  denunciations  at  his  head. 
The  Jacobin  members  filled  the  place  with  tremendous 
shouts  of  "Vive  Robespierre!  Vive  la  Republique!" 
while  the  rabble  in  the  galleries  roared  approval. 

In  the  midst  of  this  storm,  Jean  Louvet  stood  calm 
and  intrepid.  His  youthful  face  had  become  pale,  but 
not  through  fear.  It  was  because  he  realized  that  his 
daring  had  failed,  and  that  he  must  abandon  all  hope 
of  aid  from  the  Convention. 

"Cowards !"  he  muttered  despairingly.  "If  you  had 
had  the  heart  to  support  my  motion,  the  tyrant  would 
have  perished  and  M.  Vauban's  head  been  saved.  I 
took  you  for  freemen;  but  have  learned  that  you  are 
slaves.  Well,  so  be  it !  As  slaves  and  cowards  I  will 
henceforth  treat  you." 

He  cast  a  haughty  look  up  at  the  roaring  galleries, 
a  contemptuous  glance  upon  his  fellow  Represent- 
atives, and,  with  a  bow  of  mock  reverence  to  the  Presi- 
dent, turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  Convention  Hall. 

On  reaching  the  street,  he  walked  briskly  in  the 
direction  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine — whose  narrow 


JEAN  LOUVET.  39 

alleys  and  ramshackle  tenements  sheltered  the  very 
lowest  class  of  citizens — and  never  paused,  until  he 
reached  the  door  of  a  little  wine  shop  which  stood 
crowded  between  two  toppling  rookeries.  Entering 
this  dingy  den,  with  the  swagger  of  an  old  habitue,  he 
called  for  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  took  a  seat  at  a  table 
in  a  corner. 

For  fully  two  hours  he  sat  there,  sipping  from  his 
glass  gingerly,  and  meditating  in  sullen  silence. 

What  was  the  nature  of  his  reflections? 

To  reveal  them  would  be  to  anticipate  the  events  of 
this  story.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  state,  therefore,  that 
during  those  hours  of  silent  pondering,  Jean  Louvet 
had  determined  upon  a  plan  of  action.  He  had  sat 
down  at  the  table  despairing;  he  arose  with  hope  in 
his  heart ;  and,  going  over  to  the  chair  in  which  mine 
host  sat  dozing,  aroused  him  with  a  gentle  shake  and 
asked : 

"Has  Simon  the  Jailer  been  in  to-day?" 

"Not  yet,"  was  the  sleepy  answer;  "but  he'll  be  sure 
to  drop  in  this  evening." 

"Good !"  exclaimed  Louvet,  heartily ;  adding,  "When 
you  see  him,  tell  him  that  he  is  wanted.  Can  you 
remember  that  message?" 

"Aye,"  answered  mine  host;  "but  who  shall  I  say 
wants  him?" 

"Oh,  that  is  immaterial ;  he  will  understand." 

The  young  man  fixed  his  eyes  upon  a  rude  painting 
of  the  Bastille  that  hung  upon  the  wall,  and  examined 
it  with  apparent  interest.  Then  he  turned  again  to 
the  landlord  and  asked  carelessly: 


4O  THE   MAN  TVHO   DARED. 

"And  Andre  the  Barber;  he  also  frequents  your 
house,  does  he  not?" 

"He  cornes  here  every  evening." 

"Then  there  is  another  customer  of  yours,  named 
Frangois,  who  does  nothing  to  earn  his  bread.  When 
do  you  expect  to  see  him  again  ?" 

"Ah,  that  idler  spends  most  of  his  time  here." 

"Well,  you  may  tell  them  both  they  are  wanted." 

And,  without  deigning  to  notice  the  curiosity  his 
words  had  excited  in  the  landlord,  Louvet  walked  out 
of  the  wine  shop. 

A  few  steps  brought  him  to  a  little  square,  where 
a  crowd  of  poor  wretches  had  gathered  to  listen  to 
the  violent  utterances  of  a  Jacobin  demagogue  who 
was  spouting  the  praises  of  Robespierre. 

Fierce  looking  men,  in  red  caps  and  fustian  jackets, 
and  bloated,  disheveled  women  crowded  eagerly 
around  the  speaker,  blocking  the  way  so  completely 
that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  pass.  Louvet  was 
about  to  turn  into  an  alley  to  escape  the  throng,  when 
he  heard  that  which  made  him  pause. 

The  demagogue  was  denouncing  M.  Vauban. 

He  was  giving  his  audience  a  graphic  description  of 
the  ball  of  the  previous  night,  and  drawing  his  own 
conclusions  as  to  its  significance.  He  accused  M. 
Vauban  of  being  an  aristocrat  at  heart,  whose  pro- 
fessions of  republicanism  were  hypocritical.  The  en- 
tertainment, he  said,  was  proof  positive  of  this,  for  it 
wras  princely  in  its  magnificence  and  display.  A  true 
republican  would  never  have  indulged  in  such  vain 
luxury* 


JEAN  LOUVET.  4t 

The  incorruptible  Robespierre,  however,  had  seen 
through  the  designs  of  the  traitor.  He  had  recognized 
that  M.  Vauban  wished  to  excite  others  to  emulate 
his  grandeur,  and  so  undermine  the  principles  of  lib- 
erty, equality,  and  fraternity  upon  which  the  fabric  of 
the  Republic  had  been  built.  Therefore,  Robespierre 
had  caused  M.  Vauban's  arrest,  and  he  was  now  a 
prisoner  in  La  Force,  awaiting,  in  fear  and  trembling, 
the  decree  that  would  send  him  to  the  guillotine. 

Pausing  a  moment,  until  the  savage  howl  of  ap- 
proval which  followed  this  announcement  had  sub- 
sided, the  demagogue  changed  the  theme  of  his 
harangue. 

He  now  called  his  hearers'  attention  to  the  scene  in 
the  Convention  that  morning.  Louvet  could  not  re- 
strain a  smile,  on  hearing  himself  described  as  a  mean 
and  cowardly  traitor  who  had  tried  to  instigate  his 
associates  to  rebellion.  His  smile  broadened  when  he 
heard  the  demagogue  declare  that  he  was  an  assassin 
who  wished  to  murder  the  great  Robespierre. 

But  his  face  sobered  and  his  heart  sank,  a  moment 
afterwards,  when  the  Jacobin  informed  his  hearers  that 
Jean  Louvet  had  been  accused  of  treason  on  leaving 
the  Convention  Hall,  and  that  a  price  had  been  set  upon 
his  head. 

As  he  was  well  known  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine, 
where  he  had  posed  as  an  ardent  revolutionist,  he 
instantly  realized  the  danger  of  his  position.  Although 
sent  to  the  Convention  from  a  remote  district  of 
FYance,  he  had  associated  extensively  with  the  lower 
classes  in  Paris,  and  especially  with  the  residents  of 


42  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

St.  Antoine.  In  fact,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him 
to  travel  through  its  shortest  street  without  encounter- 
ing an  acquaintance.  Yet,  here  he  was,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  Faubourg,  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  its 
inhabitants. 

What  should  he  do? 

For  a  moment  he  was  so  overcome  with  terror  that 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  come  to  a  decision.  Rec- 
ognition at  that  moment  meant  certain  destruction ; 
for  the  savage  people  around  him,  lashed  to  fury  by 
the  Jacobin,  would  tear  him  limb  from  limb  on  the 
spot. 

Fortunately,  however,  the  attention  of  every  one 
in  the  crowd  was  just  now  riveted  upon  the  speaker, 
and  Jean  Louvet  had  a  chance  to  collect  his  wits. 
Realizing  the  necessity  of  leaving  the  perilous  spot  at 
once,  he  drew  off  quietly  from  the  outskirts  of  the 
throng,  and  glided  stealthily  into  a  narrow  alley. 

"It  is  probable,"  he  thought,  "that  the  news  of  my 
doings  in  the  Convention  is  not  widely  known  as  yet. 
If  I  can  only  escape  from  this  neighborhood,  all  may 
still  be  well." 

He  increased  his  gait  to  a  brisk  walk.  Every  step 
that  took  him  further  from  the  crowd  added  to  his 
hope  and  confidence.  He  passed  by  several  strag- 
glers, but  fortunately  they  were  strangers. 

All  at  once  he  came  within  sight  of  another  little 
square,  and  was  dismayed  to  see  that  here  also  a 
crowd  had  gathered.  For  what  purpose  ?  A  few  steps 
nearer  settled  all  doubts;  for  he  beheld  a  second 
Jacobin  orator,  mounted  upon  the  top  of  a  wine  cask, 


JEAN  LOUVET.  43 

addressing  the  throng  in  a  hoarse,  bawling  voice,  ac- 
companied by  the  wildest  gestures. 

With  a  fluttering  heart  Jean  Louvet  crept  nearer, 
until  he  could  hear  each  word  the  fellow  uttered.  The 
Jacobin  was  denouncing  him  as  a  traitor.  Like  the 
demagogue  he  had  previously  heard,  this  speaker  was 
describing  to  his  hearers  the  occurrences  in  the  Con- 
vention that  morning,  calling  upon  them  to  support 
the  incorruptible  Robespierre,  and  to  crush  all  his 
opponents. 

Jean  Louvet  crept  stealthily  into  the  shelter  of  a 
dark  hallway  to  reflect.  Now  that  he  knew  the  full 
extent  of  his  peril  he  was  no  longer  terrified ;  but 
could  look  the  situation  squarely  in  the  face,  with  all 
the  resolution  and  courage  that  characterized  his  na- 
ture. 

"I  see  how  matters  stand  clearly  enough,"  he 
mused.  "It  is  apparent  that  my  defiance  of  Robes- 
pierre this  morning  has  produced  a  greater  effect  than 
I  supposed.  It  has  awakened  his  supporters  to  a 
realization  that  he  has  many  enemies  in  the  Conven- 
tion who  are  only  held  in  check  by  fear.  So  his 
friends,  the  Jacobins,  dreading  lest  my  daring  might 
lead  others  to  emulate  my  example,  had  me  accused  of 
treason  immediately  after  I  had  left  the  hall.  Then, 
after  having  fixed  a  price  upon  my  head,  they  sent 
their  orators  among  the  people  to  stir  them  up  to  a 
demonstration  in  the  tyrant's  favor.  In  this  way  they 
hope  to  prove  to  his  opponents  that  he  has  the  support 
of  the  citizens  of  Paris,  and  so  frighten  them  into  a 
more  complete  subjection  to  his  will. 


44  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"It  is  shrewd  politics,"  he  reflected  further;  "but  I 
will  outwit  them  yet,  provided  I  can  escape  from  my 
present  peril,  and  reach  a  safe  retreat.  But  how  am  I 
to  accomplish  this  ?  Not  by  skulking  and  hiding  in 
this  wretched  quarter;  for  all  its  inhabitants  are  by 
this  time  inflamed  against  me.  There  is  but  one 
course  to  pursue.  I  must  go  boldly  forth,  face  the 
people  with  stern  courage,  and  trust  to  God  to  carry 
me  safely  through." 

Thereupon  he  left  the  hallway,  and,  humming  the 
Marseillaise  nonchalantly,  walked  briskly  down  the 
alley. 


CHAPTER   V. 
AT  THE  RABBLE'S  MERCY. 

JEAN  LOUVET  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance, 
when  he  arrived  at  a  street  that  intersected  the  narrow 
lane  at  right  angles.  He  paused  for  a  moment  to 
decide  which  way  he  should  turn;  then  wheeled 
quickly  to  the  right  and  hastened  on. 

It  was  his  intention  to  reach  his  lodgings  as  soon  as 
possible,  in  order  to  procure  certain  important  docu- 
ments he  kept  there,  before  the  gendarmes  arrived  to 
arrest  him;  but,  on  further  reflection,  he  determined 
to  abandon  this  purpose ;  for  it  was  imperative  for  him 
to  seek  a  hiding  place  at  once. 

On  the  confines  of  St.  Antoine,  in  a  winding  street 
hemmed  in  by  squalid  tenements,  stood  a  very  ancient 
dwelling  known  as  the  Maison  Rousseau,  out  of  com- 
pliment to  the  illustrious  philosopher  of  that  name 
who  had  once  made  it  his  residence.  Its  present  oc- 
cupant was  a  learned  physician,  Dr.  Narbonne,  of  the 
most  pronounced  revolutionary  principles,  and  con- 
sequently very  popular  with  the  people. 

It  was  said  that  he  was  exceedingly  benevolent,  and 
that  he  had  turned  his  house  into  a  hospital  for  the 
infirm.  At  least  it  was  known  that  many  persons, 

[45J 


46  THE    MAN    WHO    DARKD. 

besides  himself,  lived  in  the  Maison  Rousseau,  and,  as 
he  said  they  were  his  patients,  no  one  doubted  it. 

It  was  to  this  venerable  mansion  that  Jean  Louvet 
was  hurrying,  when  he  suddenly  encountered  an  ac- 
quaintance who  called  upon  him  to  halt. 

"Bon  jour,  Citizen  Louvet!"  exclaimed  the  fellow, 
blocking  the  way  with  his  body.  "So  you  have  not 
escaped  us  after  all  ?" 

The  young  man  shot  a  quick  glance  at  his  ques- 
tioner, and  recognized  Jacques  the  Blacksmith,  one  of 
the  most  sanguinary  wretches  in  the  Faubourg,  who 
had  figured  conspicuously  in  the  prison  massacres  of 
September,  '92. 

The  savage  aspect  of  the  man  deprived  him  of  all 
hope;  nevertheless  he  forced  a  smile  to  his  lips  and 
replied  composedly: 

"Ah,  friend  Jacques,  so  it  is  you?  I  thank  you  for 
your  kind  greeting  and  return  it  cordially." 

While  speaking  he  attempted  to  pass  on;  but  the 
man  would  not  permit  it. 

"Not  so  fast,  my  worthy  Representative,"  he 
snarled,  with  a  sarcastic  leer.  "I  must  have  a  word 
with  you.  I  heard  that  you  made  a  great  speech  in  the 
Convention  this  morning,  and  have  become  suddenly 
famous.  I  congratulate  you  on  behalf  of  St.  Antoine !" 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  squared  himself 
menacingly  before  Louvet,  with  his  great,  half-bared 
arms  akimbo,  and  his  red  cap  pulled  down  over  one 
eye. 

"I  must  deceive  this  fellow,  or  I  am  lost,"  reflected 
Louvet.  Then,  affecting  an  air  of  surprise,  he  said 


AT   THE   RABBLE'S  MERCY.  47 

aloud :  "Why,  Jacques,  you  bewilder  me.  I  make  a 
speech  and  become  famous?  Nonsense,  man!  Some 
one  has  been  joking  you." 

His  manner  was  so  sincere  that  the  blacksmith  was 
puzzled,  and  it  is  probable  that  he  would  have  let  the 
young  man  pass  on,  if  he  had  not,  at  that  moment, 
caught  sight  of  his  informant  coming  down  the  street. 

"I'll  soon  find  out  whether  I've  been  joked  or  not," 
he  growled  fiercely;  "for  here  comes  the  very  man 
who  told  me  the  story.  Why,  blast  him !  he  said  you 
had  defied  Robespierre,  and  that  a  price  had  been  set 
upon  your  head." 

Casting  a  look  over  his  shoulder,  Louvet  saw  a  burly 
laborer  swaggering  toward  them.  In  the  same  glance 
he  descried,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  a  crowd  of  people 
approaching,  waving  their  arms  frantically  above  their 
heads,  and  rending  the  air  with  their  cries.  It  was 
evident  that  the  meeting  in  the  square  he  had  just  left 
had  broken  up,  and  that  a  part  of  the  disorderly  assem- 
blage was  approaching. 

His  position  was  truly  appalling. 

On  one  side,  he  was  hemmed  in  by  a  brawny  giant, 
one  blow  of  whose  powerful  fist  would  suffice  to  kill 
him;  on  the  other,  by  an  infuriated  mob,  clamoring 
for  his  destruction.  Escape  seemed  impossible,  yet 
he  did  not  despair.  Turning  to  the  blacksmith  with  a 
gay  laugh,  he  said  good-humoredly : 

"Well,  Jacques,  it  appears  that  your  friend  has  been 
playing  his  joke  on  all  the  Faubourg;  for  here  come 
the  inhabitants  of  the  quarter  to  applaud  me." 

His  air  was  so  easy  and  frank  that  Jacques,  who 


48  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

had  obtained  his  information  only  at  second  hand, 
began  to  believe  that  he  had  indeed  been  made  the 
victim  of  a  joke.  Until  that  morning  he  had  been  an 
ardent  admirer  of  the  young  Representative,  who  had 
always  treated  him  as  a  brother  and  an  equal. 

Like  other  fanatics  of  the  period,  while  bloodthirsty 
in  his  zeal  against  those  he  regarded  as  enemies  of  . 
the  Republic,  he  was  willing  at  any  time  to  lay  down 
his  life  to  protect  the  innocent.  And  now  that  he  had 
it  in  his  power  to  either  save,  or  destroy  Jean  Louvet, 
he  found  himself  incapable  of  deciding. 

In  the  meantime  his  friend,  the  laborer,  was  draw- 
ing nearer,  with  the  crowd  of  maddened  citizens  not 
far  behind.  He  observed  that  Jean  Louvet  was  gazing 
upon  them  with  an  innocent  smile,  like  one  uncon- 
scious of  wrong-doing. 

Was  he  innocent  or  guilty? 

Should  he  urge  him  to  escape,  or  deliver  him  over 
to  the  mob's  fury? 

He  had  but  a  few  moments  to  decide. 

"Citizen  Louvet,"  he  asked  suddenly,  in  strangly 
appealing  tones,  "will  you  promise  to  answer  truth- 
fully what  I  ask  you?" 

Louvet,  who  at  that  moment  was  meditating  a  des- 
perate rush  for  liberty,  noticed  the  change  in  his  voice, 
and  replied,  artfully: 

"Why,  Jacques,  have  I  ever  told  you  a  lie?" 

"No,  you  have  not,"  answered  the  blacksmith 
quickly,  "and  that  is  why  I  trust  you  now.  Are  you 
a  true  friend  of  the  people  ?" 


AT  THE  RABBLE'S  MERCY.  49 

The  young  man  looked  him  full  in  the  eyes,  and 
answered : 

"There  is  none  truer." 

"Then  you  are  my  brother,  and  I  will  protect  you," 
cried  the  blacksmith,  eagerly.  "Listen !  The  crowd  you 
see  yonder  are  not  coming  to  cheer  you  as  you  think, 
but  to  tear  you  limb  from  limb ;  for  your  enemies 
have  been  spreading  lies  about  you  through  the  Fau- 
bourg. They  have  denounced  you  as  a  traitor,  ac- 
cused by  the  Convention,  and  with  a  price  upon  your 
head.  Now,  begone !  and  leave  the  neighborhood  as 
quickly  as  you  can,  or  I  would  not  give  one  sou  for 
your  life." 

Louvet  pressed  the  sinewy  hand  he  extended 
warmly,  and  hurried  on.  He  knew  that  his  perils  were 
not  yet  over,  in  fact,  that  only  a  short  respite  had  been 
granted  him  ;  for  in  a  few  moments  the  laborer  would 
come  up  with  the  blacksmith,  and  then  the  truth 
would  be  revealed. 

So  he  quickened  his  pace  almost  to  a  run,  looking 
to  the  right  and  left  for  a  street  or  alley  into  which  he 
could  turn,  and,  once  out  of  sight  of  his  enemies,  fly 
like  the  wind. 

But  not  a  break  appeared  in  the  solid  row  of  ten- 
ements before  him. 

Presently  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  in  eager  con- 
sultation in  his  rear,  and,  throwing  a  hasty  glance 
over  his  shoulder,  saw  that  the  laborer  and  the  black- 
smith had  met. 

"Nothing  can  save  me  now  but  speed,"  he  mut- 
tered, and  broke  into  a  run. 


5O  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Being  a  light  and  active  man,  and  somewhat  of  an 
athlete,  Jean  Louvet  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that 
he  could  soon  distance  his  pursuers.  Indeed,  his 
chief  peril  now  lay  before  him,  rather  than  behind 
For  it  was  probable  that  any  one  coming  from  an 
opposite  direction,  seeing  him  running  at  his  topmost 
speed  with  a  crowd  of  howling  pursuers  in  his  rear, 
would  regard  him  as  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  en- 
deavor to  head  him  off. 

He  had  not  gone  a  great  distance  when  this  thing 
actually  occurred. 

He  had  reached  a  bend  in  the  street,  and  was  in  the 
act  of  turning  it,  when  three  men,  in  red  caps  and 
blouses,  came  sauntering  out  of  a  wine  shop  about  one 
hundred  yards  ahead.  The  mob  was  now  in  full  cry 
after  him,  with  Jacques  and  the  laborer  in  the  lead, 
shouting : 

"Stop  the  traitor !    Head  him  off !    Stop  him !" 

Hearing  the  tumult,  the  three  men  turned,  and, 
seeing  the  fugitive  suddenly  dash  into  sight  round 
the  bend,  spread  themselves  across  the  narrow  way  to 
head  him  off. 

By  this  time  the  wild  clamor  of  the  chase  had 
aroused  the  whole  neighborhood;  windows  on  both 
sides  of  the  way  were  thrown  open  with  a  clatter,  and 
heads  were  thrust  out;  men  and  women  rushed  out 
of  doors  and  hallways  excitedly;  pedestrians  turned 
in  their  path  to  join  in  the  pursuit,  and  even  the 
gamins  of  the  quarter  paused  in  their  play  in  the  gut- 
,ters  to  hurl  stones  and  mud  at  the  luckless  mar}. 


AT  THE  RABBLE'S  MERCY.  51 

It  seemed  to  Jean  Louvet  that  all  Paris  had  risen 
against  him. 

As  he  drew  nearer  to  the  men  who  blocked  his 
path,  he  collected  his  energies  for  one  supreme  effort. 
If  he  could  break  through  them,  he  might  yet  escape ; 
so  he  determined  to  make  the  attempt. 

Veering  into  the  middle  of  the  street,  he  bent  low, 
and,  rushing  headlong  against  the  man  who  stood 
there  to  oppose  him,  caught  him  suddenly  around  the 
thighs,  and  threw  him  over  his  shoulder.  Then,  be- 
fore the  other  men  could  come  to  the  assistance  of 
their  fallen  comrade,  he  dashed  on. 

Another  peril  passed. 

Hope  now  began  to  animate  the  young  man's  heart ; 
for  he  saw,  not  far  ahead,  a  narrow  lane  that  led  into 
a  labyrinth  of  winding  alleys.  Confident  that,  if  he 
could  once  reach  this  maze,  he  could  easily  elude  his 
pursuers,  he  put  forth  a  terrific  burst  of  speed  that 
elicited  a  shout  of  baffled  rage  from  his  foes.  For 
these  human  bloodhounds  instantly  divined  his  pur- 
pose, and  realized  that  he  might  escape  them  yet. 

Suddenly,  to  their  amazement,  Jean  Louvet  came  to 
a  dead  halt,  and,  folding  his  arms  quietly  across  his 
chest,  calmly  awaited  their  approach. 

Why? 

From  the  lane  toward  which  he  was  hurrying,  a 
mob  was  now  pouring,  giving  vent  to  mad  shouts  of 
vengeance,  and  completely  blocking  the  way.  It  was 
apparent  that  a  third  Jacobin  meeting  had  been  held 
somewhere  in  the  vicinity,  and  that  the  people  who 
had  attended  it  were  returning  to  their  homes. 


52  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Two  dense  walls  of  humanity  were  now  pressing  in 
upon  Louvet  from  opposite  directions,  and  he  had  no 
choice  but  to  bravely  await  the  moment  when  they 
would  meet  together  and  crush  him. 

"I  am  lost,"  he  groaned,  despairingly,  "and  with  me 
all  hope  of  saving  M.  Vauban." 

Presently  one  of  his  pursuers  came  up  to  him  and 
seized  him  roughly. 

"Ah,  you  vile  traitor!"  he  panted,  fiercely.  "You 
are  caught  at  last." 

"Caught,  yes,"  he  answered,  resolutely;  "but  not 
proved  a  traitor  as  yet.  I  demand  a  trial." 

At  this  moment,  Jacques  the  blacksmith  rushed  up. 

"You  lying  aristocrat!"  he  howled,  with  a  murder- 
ous gleam  in  his  wolfish  eyes.  "You  cheated  me,  you 
betrayed  my  trust,  and  I  will  tear  your  heart  out !" 

Drawing  a  huge,  hooked  knife  from  his  belt,  he 
was  about  to  plunge  it  into  his  victim's  breast,  when 
a  third  pursuer  arrived  upon  the  scene,  and  seized  his 
uplifted  arm. 

"Lunatic!  what  are  you  about?"  he  cried,  quickly. 
"Would  you  slay  an  innocent  man  ?" 

Louvet  turned  toward  his  preserver  in  amazement, 
and  recognized  Francois  the  Idler,  for  whom  he  had 
left  a  message  at  the  wine  shop. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

A  CONFERENCE  IN  THE  MAISON  ROUSSEAU. 

JACQUES  the  Blacksmith  let  his  arm  drop  slowly  to 
his  side,  and  threw  upon  Frangois  a  glance  of  blank 
astonishment. 

"Innocent?"  he  asked,  pointing  a  threatening  fore- 
finger at  Jean  Louvet.  "This  traitor  innocent  ?" 

"He  is  no  more  a  traitor  than  you  are,  Jacques," 
answered  Frangois,  boldly;  "but  a  sturdy  friend  of 
the  Republic  whom  we  must  save."  , 

"But  he  stands  accused  of  treason  by  the  Conven- 
tion," gasped  the  wondering  blacksmith.  "And,  if  he 
is  not  guilty,  why  has  a  price  been  fixed  upon  his 
head?" 

Frangois  laughed  scornfully. 

"Ignorant  fool !  Know  you  not  there  are  two  Rep- 
resentatives of  this  man's  name  in  the  National  Con- 
vention ?" 

The  blacksmith's  lower  jaw  dropped.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  stood  silent,  looking  from  Louvet  to  his  pre- 
server, and  back  again  in  a  half  stupefied  way;  then 
he  asked,  bewilderedly : 

"How  can  that  be?" 

"Listen,  and  I  will  explain!"  answered  Frangois, 
hurriedly;  for  the  angry  mob  was  now  close  at  hand, 

[53] 


54  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

and  every  second  was  precious.  "The  man  who  defied 
Robespierre  this  morning  was  not  the  noble  patriot, 
Jean  Louvet,  but  a  vile  traitor  of  a  similar  name  who 
represents  a  district  in  the  department  of  Lyons.  The 
man  before  you  spells  his  name  L-o-u-v-e-t.  The 
wretch  accused  by  the  Convention  spells  his  L-u-v-e-t. 
Their  baptismal  names  are  the  same,  which  accounts 
for  the  grave  mistake  that  has  been  made;  but  here 
comes  the  crowd,"  he  added,  as  the  people  surged 
furiously  around  them.  "Let  us  do  what  we  can  to 
protect  this  innocent  man  from  their  rage !" 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  hero  of  this  narrative  that 
Jacques  the  Blacksmith  was  a  power  in  the  Faubourg 
St.  Antoine.  Otherwise,  he  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  enraged  populace  before  a 
word  could  have  been  spoken  in  his  defense.  As  it 
was,  the  credulous  monster,  whom  Fran£ois  had  so 
artfully  converted  into  his  protector,  was  obliged  to 
cover  him  with  his  huge  body,  and  imperil  his  life  on 
his  behalf. 

Jean  Louvet  was  conscious  of  being  tossed  from 
side  to  side,  as  the  infuriated  mob  pressed  resistlessly 
about  them.  He  felt  his  frame  clasped  tightly  in  the 
huge  arms  of  the  giant  blacksmith.  He  heard  the 
roar  of  his  protector's  voice  bellowing  protestations 
of  his  innocence ;  caught  confused  glimpses  of  fiend- 
ish faces  crowned  by  filthy  red  caps ;  of  waving  clubs, 
gleaming  knives,  and  glittering  axes. 

Then,  believing  that  his  last  moment  had  come,  he 
muttered  a  fervent  prayer,  closed  his  eyes  and  waited. 


A  CONFERENCE  IN  THE   MAISON  ROUSSEAU.     55 

At  this  crisis  a  trumpet  voice  rang  out  above  the 
tumult : 

"Would  you  stain  your  hands  with  innocent  blood, 
my  brothers?  This  man  is  not  the  one  you  seek. 
Jean  Luvet  is  in  prison." 

The  crowd  ceased  yelling  and  fell  back,  while  a 
stockily-built  man,  attired  in  the  garb  of  a  municipal 
jailer,  pushed  his  way  to  Louvet's  side. 

Reopening  his  eyes,  to  see  who  this  new  preserver 
might  be,  the  young  man  could  hardly  credit  his 
senses  on  beholding  Simon  the  Jailer,  for  whom  he 
had  inquired  at  the  wine  shop. 

By  what  marvelous  coincidence  had  these  two  men 
arrived  in  such  a  timely  manner  to  his  rescue  ?  A  few 
words  will  explain : 

Earlier  in  the  morning,  they  had  met  in  the  Fau- 
bourg— the  jailer  being  off  duty  at  the  time — and, 
while  visiting  the  different  wine  shops,  had  fallen  in 
with  one  of  the  Jacobin  gatherings.  There  they  had 
learned  of  Jean  Louvet's  defiance  of  Robespierre,  and 
of  the  peril  which  threatened  him  in  consequence.  So 
they  agreed  to  seek  him  out  and  warn  him.  Then 
they  separated  and  went  different  ways,  not,  however, 
before  Frangois  had  suggested  that  it  would  be  well 
to  spread  the  report  that  a  mistake  had  been  made  by 
the  orators,  who,  in  denouncing  Jean  Louvet  to  the 
people,  had  intended  to  denounce  Jean  Luvet,  a  Rep- 
resentative well  known  to  be  opposed  to  the  gov- 
ernment. 

This  report,  he  argued,  would  readily  be  credited 
on  account  of  the  similarity  in  the  men's  names,  and, 


56  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

if  Jean  Louvet  should  visit  St.  Antoine  before  they 
could  warn  him,  might  result  in  saving  him  from  in- 
stant death. 

On  separating,  chance  led  them  in  opposite  direc- 
tions ;  so  that  Francois  the  Idler  found  himself  in  the 
crowd  that  afterward  gave  chase  to  Jean  Louvet, 
while  Simon  the  Jailer  became  one  of  the  mob  which 
subsequently  issued  from  the  lane  ahead  of  him  to  bar 
the  way  of  his  escape.  Naturally,  on  discovering  who 
the  fugitive  was,  they  both  rushed  forward  to  his 
rescue,  Frangois  arriving  at  his  side  in  time  to  prevent 
his  assassination  by  the  blacksmith,  and  Simon  to 
save  him  from  massacre  by  the  people. 

On  seeing  that  his  ringing  shouts  had  caused  the 
crowd  to  hesitate,  Simon  followed  up  his  advantage 
with  vigor. 

"Fellow  citizens !"  he  exclaimed.  "It  is  apparent 
that  an  overruling  Providence  directed  my  steps  hither 
to  save  you  from  murdering  an  innocent  man.  It  is 
true  that  a  Representative  of  a  like  name  was  accused 
by  the  Convention  this  morning,  and  that  a  price  was 
set  upon  his  head.  But,  brothers,  he  is  in  the  Luxem- 
bourg Prison,  where  I  locked  him  up  myself  this 
morning.  You  all  know  me,  do  you  not  ?  I  am  Simon 
the  Jailer,  and  you  are  aware  that  I  never  stoop  to 
lie.  So  when  I  tell  you  that  Jean  Louvet,  the  man 
whose  life  you  have  been  seeking,  is  not  Jean  Luvet, 
the  traitor,  who  now  lies  in  prison  for  his  crimes,  I 
trust  you  will  let  this  patriot  go  in  peace." 

A  moment  of  silent  suspense  followed,  and  then  a 
voice  cried  out: 


A  CONFERENCE   IN   THE   MAISON   ROUSSEAU.     $/ 

"But  who  is  this  other  Jean  Luvet  you  speak  of  ?  I 
never  heard  of  him." 

Before  Simon  could  make  answer,  another  voice 
replied : 

"Then  I  would  advise  you  to  read  your  Moniteur 
more  carefully.  For  my  part,  I  know  the  man  to 
whom  Simon  refers  well."  Then  raising  his  voice,  so 
that  all  might  hear,  he  added:  "It  is  apparent  that 
this  man  is  innocent,  citizens.  The  traitor  denounced 
by  the  orators  must  be  Jean  Luvet  from  the  depart- 
ment of  Lyons,  as  Simon  the  Jailer  says;  for  we  all 
know  his  anti-revolutionary  principles.  I  think  we 
ov»e  some  apology,  therefore,  to  the  citizen  we  have 
so  grievously  wronged." 

A  tremendous  cheer  greeted  this  proposal,  and 
every  one  pressed  forward  to  shake  Jean  Louvet's 
hand.  In  fact,  he  now  found  himself  in  almost  as 
much  peril  from  the  crowd's  demonstrations  of  affec- 
tion, as  he  had  been,  but  a  short  time  before,  from  its 
fury.  After  a  while,  however,  his  two  preservers  suc- 
ceeded in  extricating  him  from  the  throng,  and  then 
all  three  made  off  together  in  the  direction  of  the 
Maison  Rousseau. 

When  they  were  out  of  hearing  of  the  people,  Louvet 
asked  his  companions: 

"Did  you  receive  my  message?" 

"No,"  they  answered.     "Where  did  you  leave  it?" 

"With  the  landlord  of  the  wine  house  you  both  fre- 
quent. However,  since  we  are  together,  I  will  deliver 
it  in  person.  I  want  you  both  to  attend  a  conference 
to-night." 


58  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"At  the  Maison  Rousseau  ?" 

"Of  course,  that  is  understood." 

"Well,  you  can  trust  me  to  be  there,"  said  Simon. 

"And  me  also,"  echoed  Frangois. 

"But  whither  are  you  going  now?"  asked  Louvet 
anxiously. 

"To  the  nearest  possible  hiding  place,"  responded 
Francois.  "We  have  saved  you  by  employing  a  ruse 
which  may  be  detected  at  any  moment.  So  we  must 
make  the  most  of  our  time." 

"Then  let  us  hasten  to  the  Maison  Rousseau,"  said 
Louvet.  "For  it  is  there  the  conference  is  to  be  held." 

His  companions  offering  no  objections  to  this  sug- 
gestion, they  proceeded  toward  Dr.  Narbonne's  resi- 
dence at  a  lively  walk.  When  they  came  within  sight 
of  it,  they  turned  aside  into  a  narrow  lane  which  led 
to  a  garden  in  the  rear.  In  this  way  they  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  back  of  the  mansion  unobserved,  and, 
knocking  at  a  secret  door,  were  admitted  into  the 
interior. 

After  seeing  Louvet  safe  in  this  place  of  refuge,  his 
preservers  took  their  departure  by  the  same  way  they 
had  come,  one  to  return  to  his  duty  in  the  Luxem- 
bourg Prison,  and  the  other  to  resume  his  vocation 
as  an  idler.  Jean  watched  them  through  a  window, 
until  they  disappeared  from  view,  and  then  walked 
quickly  upstairs  to  Dr.  Narbonne's  study,  and  rapped 
for  admittance. 

"Who's  there?"  asked  a  cheery  voice  from  within. 

"  Tis  the  chief,"  answered  Louvet,    "May  I  enter?" 


A  CONFERENCE  IN  THE  MAISON   ROUSSEAU.     §9 

Without  pausing  to  answer,  Dr.  Narbonne  hurried 
to  the  door  and  flung  it  wide  open. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  he  exclaimed  fervently,  as  he  clasped 
Louvet  to  his  heart.  "How  did  you  manage  to  get 
here,  my  dear  young  master?  I  heard  of  what  hap- 
pened this  morning,  and  feared  that  you  had  been 
killed.  May  God  be  praised  for  your  escape !" 

Jean  returned  his  embrace  with  equal  fervor,  and, 
after  closing  and  locking  the  door  of  the  study,  they 
drew  chairs  to  opposite  sides  of  a  table,  and  began  to 
converse  earnestly  together.  After  describing  his 
adventures  in  St.  Antoine,  and  his  rescue  from  the 
rabble  by  his  friends,  Jean  added  confidently : 

"The  conclusions  I  have  drawn  from  these  events 
are  most  encouraging.  Let  me  state  them.  In  the 
first  place,  I  am  convinced  that  Robespierre  sways  the 
National  Convention  through  fear.  Secondly,  al- 
though he  has  the  support  of  the  people  now,  if  their 
eyes  can  be  opened  to  his  tyranny,  they  will  become 
his  implacable  enemies.  Thirdly,  he  is  at  present 
popular  with  the  National  Guard  and  the  Municipal 
Gendarmes,  and  this  enables  him  to  wield  an  immense 
power.  But,  if  these  forces  could  be  made  to  under- 
stand that  Robespierre  employs  them  as  the  instru- 
ments of  his  despotism,  they  would  turn  against  him 
to  a  man." 

"But  the  Jacobin  Club?"  interposed  Dr.  Narbonne. 
"His  influence  with  that  body  is  unassailable." 

"True,"  answered  Louvet ;  "but  the  Jacobins'  power 
is  fast  waning  in  France.  Indeed,  Robespierre  is  their 


60  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

chief  prop  and  support.  Take  him  away,  and  the 
Jacobin  Club  would  soon  fall  to  pieces." 

"But  you  have  forgotten  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal,  and  the  Commitees,"  said  Dr.  Narbonne. 
"They  are  composed  of  Robespierre's  friends — St. 
Just,  Couthon  and  other  uncompromising  Jacobins." 

"No,"  answered  Louvet,  gravely,  "they  have  not 
escaped  my  mind.  I  appreciate  fully  that  they  are 
the  real  governing  bodies  of  France,  before  which  the 
National  Convention  bows  submissively.  I  learned 
that  sad  fact  this  morning." 

Dr.  Narbonne  cast  a  look  of  loving  admiration  upon 
the  young  man,  and  shook  his  head  protestingly. 

"Ah,  that  rash  speech  of  yours  was  a  mistake,"  he 
said.  "What  prompted  you  to  make  it?" 

"Necessity,"  was  the  emphatic  answer. 

"Necessity?"  echoed  his  companion  archly.  "Come, 
confide  in  me,  my  dear  master!  Were  you  not  actu- 
ated in  some  measure  by  the  arrest  of  M.  Vauban  ?" 

Jean  Louvet's  handsome  face  reddened  as  he  re- 
plied, confusedly: 

"What  makes  you  think  that?" 

"Because  I  know  you  are  M.  Vauban's  friend,"  re- 
turned Dr.  Narbonne.  "Because  I  am  acquainted 
with  all  that  occurred  at  the  ball  last  night.  I  am 
informed  that  Mademoiselle  Louise  Vauban  appealed 
to  her  admirers,  after  her  father's  arrest,  offering  her- 
self and  fortune  to  the  man  who  would  save  him." 

"True,  but  the  cowards  abandoned  her  to  a  man !" 
cried  Jean,  with  infinite  scorn.  "Being  there  myself, 
I  know  whereof  I  speak." 


A  CONFERENCE   IN  THE   MAISON   ROUSSEAU.     6 1 

The  worthy  doctor  regarded  the  young  man  with 
an  amused  smile. 

"And  being  there  yourself,"  he  resumed,  "and  being 
also  an  admirer  of  the  beautiful  Louise,  you  volun- 
teered to  assist  her  in  her  distress.  Come,  confess 
the  truth,  dear  master!  for  I  know  your  chivalrous 
nature." 

Jean  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 

"Since  you  have  guessed  my  secret,"  he  stammered, 
with  a  confused  laugh,  "I  will  attempt  concealment  no 
longer.  It  is  true,  Dr.  Narbonne,  that  I  love  Louise 
Vauban.  It  is  true  that  I  volunteered  to  save  her 
father,  and  it  is  also  true  that  my  rash  speech,  as  you 
call  it,  was  made  in  her  father's  behalf." 

"But  what  did  you  hope  to  accomplish  by  it?"  asked 
the  doctor. 

"Robespierre's  downfall!"  exclaimed  the  young 
man,  striking  the  table  with  his  clenched  fist.  "I 
hoped  that  a  majority  in  the  Convention  would  sup- 
port me;  but  now  I  see  that  I  was  mistaken." 

"And  would  the  fall  of  Robespierre  save  M.  Vau- 
ban?" 

"He  can  be  saved  in  no  other  way.  It  was  Robes- 
pierre who  caused  his  arrest,  and  it  will  be  Robes- 
pierre who  will  have  him  guillotined.  Therefore,  if 
M.  Vauban  is  to  be  saved,  it  must  be  done  by  remov- 
ing the  tyrant." 

"And  you  still  hope  to  accomplish  this  result?" 

"I  do,"  was  the  emphatic  answer,  "and  by  employ- 
ing his  own  weapons  against  himself.  As  his  power  is 
the  result  of  terror,  through  terror  he  must  fall," 


62  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

His  companion  regarded  him  with  a  perplexed 
look. 

"I  do  not  understand  you  in  the  least,"  he  said. 

"Then  let  me  explain,"  answered  Louvet:  "It  is 
an  undeniable  fact  that  Robespierre  sways  the 
National  Convention  through  fear,  notwithstanding 
that  the  majority  of  Representatives  detest  him.  Now, 
if  these  men  can  be  inspired  with  a  greater  terror  than 
Robespierre  can  command,  they  will  rise  in  a  body 
and  denounce  him." 

"And  you  really  hope  to  bring  this  thing  to  pass  ?" 

"The  future  will  reveal  my  plans,"  was  the  reply. 


CHAPTER    VII. 
ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER. 

WHENEVER  mention  is  made  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution, three  terrible  names  are  immediately  suggested 
to  the  mind.  Let  them  be  printed  in  capitals  to  em- 
phasize the  obloquy  attached  to  them ! 

MARAT,  DANTON,  ROBESPIERRE. 

Of  the  three,  Marat  was  the  most  bloodthirsty ;  Dan- 
ton  the  most  violent;  Robespierre  the  most  implaca- 
ble and  despotic. 

Concerning  the  former,  who  first  attracted  public 
attention  by  editing  an  incendiary  journal  entitled 
"THE  FRIEND  of  the  PEOPLE,"  Lamartine  writes 
that  he  was  "the  fury  of  the  Revolution.  He  had  the 
clumsy  tumblings  of  the  brute  in  his  thought,  and  its 
gnashings  of  teeth  in  his  style.  His  journal  smelt  of 
blood  in  every  line."  In  short,  he  pandered  to  the 
rage  and  licentiousness  of  the  most  abandoned  classes, 
was  despicable  in  his  immoralities,  and  richly  deserved 
the  fate  meted  out  to  him  by  the  heroic  Charlotte 
Corday. 

As  regards  Danton,  Carlyle  has  found  much  in  his 
..character  to  .admire.  He  portrays  him  as  a  man 

[63] 


64  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

whose  naturally  strong  passions  were  warped  by  the 
conditions  of  his  time;  ferocious  toward  his  oppo- 
nents, yet  not  devoid  of  generosity  toward  individuals. 
The  celebrated  Madame  Roland,  his  bitter  political 
enemy,  best  describes  him: 

"I  never  saw  any  countenance  that  so  strongly  ex- 
pressed the  violence  of  brutal  passions,  and  the  most 
astonishing  audacity,  half  disguised  by  a  jovial  air, 
an  affectation  of  frankness,  and  a  sort  of  simplicity, 
as  Danton's.  In  1778  he  was  a  needy  lawyer,  more 
burdened  with  debts  than  causes.  He  went  to  Bel- 
gium to  augment  his  resources,  and,  after  the  loth  of 
August,  had  the  hardihood  to  avow  a  fortune  of 
158,333  pounds,  and  to  wallow  in  luxury,  while  preach- 
ing sans  citllotism,  and  sleeping  on  heaps  of  slaught- 
ered men."  "Danton,"  says  Mignet,  "was  a  gigantic 
revolutionist.  He  deemed  no  means  censurable  so 
they  were  useful.  He  has  been  termed  the  Mirabeau 
of  the  populace.  Mirabeau's  vices  were  those  of  a 
patrician.  Dariton's  those  of  a  democrat.  He  was  an 
absolute  exterminator,  without  being  personally  fero- 
cious; inexorable  toward  masses,  humane  toward 
units." 

But,  although  history  has  arrived  at  a  fairly  just 
estimate  of  the  character  of  both  Marat  and  Danton, 
Robespierre  remains  to-day,  as  ever,  an  enigma.  His 
morals  were  irreproachable;  no  bribes  could  corrupt 
him ;  he  seems  to  have  been  sincere  in  his  endeavors 
to  establish  a  Republic  founded  upon  the  basis  of 
popular  liberty  and  virtue;  for  self-aggrandisement 
apparently  never  entered  into  his  aims.  Although  he 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER.  65 

was  not  a  blood-thirsty  man,  he  was  ever  ready,  with 
frigid  mercilessness,  to  crush  anybody  who  stood  in 
the  way  of  his  designs.  His  soul  appears  to  have  been 
almost  as  insensible  to  any  generous  emotion,  as  was 
the  blade  of  the  guillotine  he  employed  so  freely. 

"Robespierre,"  said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  "was 
by  no  means  the  worst  character  who  figured  in  the 
French  Revolution.  He  opposed  trying  the  queen. 
He  was  not  an  atheist ;  on  the  contrary  he  had  pub- 
licly maintained  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being  in 
opposition  to  many  of  his  colleagues.  Neither  was 
he  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  necessary  to  exterminate 
all  priests  and  nobles,  like  many  others.  Marat,  for 
example,  maintained  that  it  was  necessary  that  six 
hundred  thousand  heads  should  fall.  Robespierre 
wanted  to  proclaim  the  king  an  outlaw,  and  not  to  go 
through  the  ridiculous  mockery  of  trying  him.  Robes- 
pierre was  a  fanatic,  a  monster,  but  he  was  incorrupt- 
ible, and  incapable  of  robbing,  or  causing  the  deaths 
of  others,  either  from  personal  enmity,  or  a  desire  of 
enriching  himself.  He  was  an  enthusiast;  but  one 
who  really  believed  that  he  was  acting  right,  and  died 
not  worth  a  sou." 

As  all  three  of  these  despots  mounted  to  power 
through  the  influence  they  exerted  in  the  Jacobin 
Club,  a  brief  history  of  the  foundation  and  rise  to 
authority  of  this  famous  political  organization  will 
here  be  necessary. 

When  Louis  XVI.  and  his  beautiful  young  queen, 
Marie  Antoinette,  ascended  the  throne  of  France,  the 
measureless  extravagance  of  the  court  had  plunged 


66  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

the  nation  into  inextricable  financial  embarrassment. 
The  whole  burden  of  the  taxes — for  the  support  of  the 
throne,  the  nobles,  the  church  and  the  army — fell  with 
tremendous  weight  upon  the  unprivileged  classes 
alone,  sinking  them  to  the  lowest  condition  of  poverty, 
debasement  and  misery. 

Taxes  were  placed  upon  everything. 

There  was  hardly  an  occupation  in  which  a  man 
could  engage  which  was  not  taxed  to  almost  a  pro- 
hibitory limit.  Tax-gatherers,  to  the  number  of  two 
hundred  thousand,  employed  the  most  cruel  expedi- 
ents to  deprive  the  starving  people  of  their  substance. 
Galleys,  gibbets,  dungeons,  racks — all  were  called  into 
requisition.  When  the  corn  was  absorbed,  the  cattle 
were  taken.  The  ground,  exhausted  for  want  of 
manure,  became  sterile.  Men,  women  and  children 
yoked  themselves  to  the  plow.  The  most  fruitful 
regions  gradually  became  reduced  to  deserts;  the 
population  died  off,  and  beautiful  France  was  fast  be- 
coming but  a  place  of  graves. 

Just  at  this  time  the  American  War  of  Independence 
broke  out.  It  was  the  struggle  of  a  heroic  people 
against  unjust  taxation.  The  unprivileged  classes  of 
France  were  aroused  to  enthusiasm  on  behalf  of  the 
revolutionists;  and,  when  the  American  delegation 
appeared  in  Paris,  headed  by  Franklin,  all  hearts  were 
swept  along  by  a  current  which  neither  king,  nor 
nobles  could  withstand. 

While  the  war  between  Great  Britain  and  her  col- 
onies lasted,  the  people  of  France  made  no  overt  dem- 
onstrations to  escape  from  their  bondage;  but,  when 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER.  67 

the  Americans  had  succeeded  in  wresting  their  inde- 
pendence from  their  king,  the  seeds  of  liberty  began  to 
germinate  and  bear  fruit  in  the  breasts  of  their  French 
sympathizers.  Grumblings  and  expressions  of  discon- 
tent were  heard  on  all  sides;  while,  at  intervals,  the 
people  broke  out  in  open  rebellion  against  their  op- 
pressors. Such  were  the  prevailing  conditions,  when 
the  soldiers,  who  had  served  in  America  under  Ro- 
chambeau  and  Lafayette,  returned  to  their  homes,  and, 
mingling  with  their  countrymen,  inflamed  their  desire 
for  freedom. 

In  May,  1778,  Louis  XVI.,  by  the  advice  of  his 
ministers,  determined  to  issue  an  edict  to  render  use- 
less the  Parliament  in  Paris,  and  the  twelve  Parlia- 
ments in  the  other  departments  of  France.  In  some 
way  tidings  of  his  intention  reached  these  bodies,  and 
the  members  resolved  to  resist  the  measure  to  the  last 
gasp.  A  deputation  of  twelve  was  sent  from  the 
Parliament  of  Breton,  with  a  remonstrance  to  the 
king  at  Versailles.  They  were  all  consigned  to  the 
Bastille.  A  second  deputation,  much  larger,  was 
sent.  Agents  of  the  king  met  them,  and,  by  threats 
and  menaces,  drove  them  back.  A  third,  still  more 
numerous,  was  appointed  to  approach  Versailles  by 
different  roads.  The  king  refused  to  receive  them. 
At  this,  they  held  a  meeting  in  Paris,  and  invited  La 
Fayette  and  all  patriotic  Bretons  in  the  city  to  advise 
with  them. 

This  was  the  origin  of  the  Jacobin  Club. 

The  organization  was  first  known  as  the  Breton 
Club,  and  was  composed  of  the  patriotic  members  of 


68  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

the  National  Assembly.  After  the  removal  of  this 
body  to  Paris,  however,  the  club  held  its  meetings  in 
an  old,  smoky  convent  of  the  Jacobin  monks,  and 
was  hence  called  the  Jacobin  Club.  It  now  admitted 
members  indiscriminately,  until  it  numbered  twelve 
hundred  in  Paris  alone.  Its  affiliated  clubs  were  es- 
tablished in  every  part  of  France,  and  were  filled  with 
the  most  ardent  advocates  of  reform.  In  less  than 
two  years,  these  branch  organizations  numbered  two 
thousand  four  hundred  societies  in  as  many  towns. 
Meanwhile  the  principles  advocated  by  the  Jacobins 
became  so  fiercely  democratic  that  La  Fayette  and 
others  of  the  more  conservative  patriots  withdrew 
from  their  tumultuous  gatherings. 

Indeed  the  Jacobins  were  rapidly  assuming  the 
reins  of  government  by  marshaling  the  mob  to  their 
support.  By  wielding  this  resistless  weapon,  the  club 
soon  became  the  relentless  and  despotic  sovereign  of 
France,  more  relentless  and  more  despotic  than  any 
single  sovereign  who  ever  sat  upon  the  throne. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  as  the  French  Revolu- 
tion progressed,  Louis  XVI.  and  his  consort,  alarmed 
at  the  attitude  of  the  people,  deemed  it  expedient  to 
escape  from  Paris  in  disguise,  and  drive  off  rapidly 
toward  the  frontier.  Unfortunately,  they  were  recog- 
nized and  arrested  at  Varennes,  and  brought  back  as 
prisoners  to  the  capital. 

Reference  is  made  to  this  episode,  because  it  afforded 
the  Jacobin  Club  the  opportunity  of  becoming  the 
most  formidable  power  in  France.  On  the  morning 
after  the  king's  flight,  Marat,  one  of  its  most  popular 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER.  69 

and  energetic  members,  issued  a  furious  proclamation 
to  the  populace  of  Paris.  Similar  impassioned  appeals 
were  issued  by  the  Jacobin  journals  throughout  the 
country,  and  the  entire  nation  was  roused  to  frenzy. 
The  king  was  denounced  as  a  traitor,  plotting  the  de- 
struction of  his  subjects,  and  Marat  became  the  idol  of 
the  nation. 

This  despicable  wretch  now  openly  advocated  the 
annihilation  of  royalty.  Others  followed  his  example. 
The  new  doctrine  spread  with  marvelous  rapidity 
among  the  lower  orders  of  Paris,  and  very  speedily 
gained  ascendency  among  the  Jacobins.  On  the  23rd 
of  June,  1791,  Danton  mounted  the  tribune  of  the 
club,  and  demanded,  in  an  outburst  of  fiery  eloquence, 
the  forfeiture  of  the  throne. 

"Your  king,"  said  he,  "is  either  a  knave,  or  an  idiot. 
If  we  must  have  one  of  the  two,  who  would  not  prefer 
the  latter?" 

His  utterances  were  received  with  the  wildest 
demonstrations  of  applause.  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette  were  overwhelmed  with  a  torrent  of  insults 
and  objurgations,  and  it  was  apparent  that  their  fate 
was  sealed. 

It  was  not  until  the  memorable  tenth  of  August, 
1792,  however,  that  they  were  forced  to  abdicate  the 
throne.  Three  days  later,  the  king  and  his  family 
were  consigned  to  the  gloomy  fortress  of  the  Temple, 
where  they  were  held  as  prisoners  until  the  execution 
of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette  upon  the  guil- 
lotine. 


7O  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

The  sway  of  the  Jacobin  Club  over  the  destinies  of 
France  was  now  absolute. 

Danton  was  named  Minister  of  Justice;  the  blood- 
thirsty Marat  was  appointed  President  of  a  committee 
of  "surveillance,"  which  established  a  terrible  system 
of  espionage  and  domiciliary  visitation  in  Paris,  under 
pretence  of  preventing  conspiracies  against  the  State ; 
while  Robespierre,  who  was  now  rapidly  rising  to 
power,  was  offered  the  presidency  of  a  special  criminal 
tribunal,  instituted  for  the  trial  of  all  persons  accused 
of  sharing  in  such  conspiracies.  He  declined  the 
honor,  however,  as  being  incompatible  with  his  duties 
as  the  leading  member  of  the  Commune  of  Paris. 

The  Republic  of  France  dates  properly  from  the  first 
meeting  of  the  National  Convention,  on  the  2ist  of 
September,  1792.  On  that  day  Collot  d'Herbois  pro- 
posed the  motion  that  royalty  should  be  forever  abol- 
ished, and  that  from  the  2ist  of  September,  1792, 
should  begin  the  year  One  of  the  French  Republic. 

On  the  2ist  of  January,  1793,  Louis  XVI.  perished 
upon  the  guillotine,  amid  the  wildest  demonstrations 
of  joy  on  the  part  of  the  spectators,  who  rent  the  air 
with  prolonged  shouts  of  "Vive  la  Republique!  Vive 
la  Liber te!" 

The  inevitable  and  immediate  result  of  his  execution 
was  to  plunge  the  nation  into  a  bitter  strife  of  political 
factions.  The  National  Convention  was  divided  into 
two  strong  parties:  the  Girondists  and  the  Jacobins. 
One  of  the  first  great  advantages  gained  by  the  latter 
was  the  establishment,  on  the  loth  of  March,  1793,  of 
the  Revolutionary  Tribunal — the  most  execrable  en- 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER  71 

gine  of  lawless  oppression  and  cruelty  that  ever  dis- 
graced a  civilized  nation.  The  Jacobins  followed  this 
up  by  the  appointment,  on  the  2/th  of  May,  of  the 
terrible  "Committee  of  Public  Safety,"  consisting  of 
nine  members,  Barrere  and  Danton  being  the  most 
influential.  Th'e  whole  revolutionary  power  was 
lodged  in  their  hands.  They  appointed  such  sub-com- 
mittees as  they  pleased,  held  their  deliberations  in 
secret,  and  governed  France  with  terrific  energy.  They 
were  empowered  to  take  whatever  measures  they 
deemed  necessary  to  the  welfare  of  the  Republic,  and 
issued  warrants  for  the  arrest  and  imprisonment  of  all 
suspected  persons.  The  Jacobins,  by  controlling  these 
two  governing  bodies,  gained  a  decisive  victory  over 
the  Girondist,  and  sent  thirty-two  of  their  number 
to  the  guillotine. 

It  was  during  this  strife  that  Charlotte  Corday,  an 
enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  Girondists,  set  out  from 
Caen  to  Paris,  and,  having  obtained  an  interview  with 
the  sanguinary  Marat,  stabbed  him  to  the  heart  as  he 
lay  in  his  bath. 

After  the  downfall  of  the  Girondists,  the  Jacobins 
were  driven  by  the  necessities  of  their  position  to  es- 
tablish a  system  of  sanguinary  despotism,  to  which  no 
parallel  can  be  found  in  history.  Their  reign  will  be 
known  to  the  remotest  ages  as  the  "Reign  of  Terror." 

Maximilian  Robespierre  was  chosen  a  member  of 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  in  July,  1793;  and, 
from  that  time,  its  proceedings  were  marked  by  a 
degree  of  firmness,  activity,  and  systematic  vigor, 
which,  if  displayed  in  a  good  cause,  would  have  been 


72  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

worthy  of  high  commendation.  His  principal  col- 
leagues in  this  terrible  secret  conclave  were  Barrere, 
Carnot,  Couthon,  St.  Just  and  Billaud-Varennes. 
Among  other  arbitrary  measures  which  they  enforced 
was  the  famous  "loi  des  suspects,"  which  virtually 
placed  the  liberty  and  property  of  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  France  at  the  disposal  of  the  government,  and 
soon  filled  the  prisons  with  upward  of  two  hundred 
thousand  miserable  captives. 

The  Revolutionary  Tribunal  was  brought  into  con- 
stant requisition,  and  the  scaffolds  reeked  with  the 
blood  of  victims  of  all  ages,  classes  and  conditions. 
The  first  remarkable  personage  to  be  executed  was 
General  Custine;  the  second  was  the  unfortunate 
queen,  Marie  Antoinette,  who  died,  with  touching 
serenity  and  magnanimity  on  the  i6th  of  October, 
I793-  The  despicable  Egalite;  the  enthusiastic  and 
noble-hearted  Madame  Roland;  the  unsuccessful  gen- 
erals Houchard,  Brunet  and  Lauzun;  and  the  noto- 
rious Madame  du  Barry,  so  long  the  reigning  mis- 
tress of  Louis  XV. — all  suffered  in  turn  under  the 
fatal  knife.  Nor  were  the  executions  confined  to 
persons  of  prominence  only.  Hundreds  of  humble 
citizens  were  immolated  for  the  all-comprehensive 
crime  of  hostility  to  the  Republic.  Lisping  children 
and  decrepit  octogenarians  shared  the  same  fate.  The 
two  extremes  of  life,  the  cradle  and  the  grave,  met 
upon  the  scaffold  of  the  guillotine. 

In  the  »meantime,  Robespierre  was  rapidly  acquir- 
ing despotic  power.  He  controlled  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety,  and  his  democratic  principles,  humble 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER.  73 

mode  of  life  and  incorruptible  honesty  rendered  him 
the  idol  of  the  populace.  Hebert,  a  low,  impudent  and 
corrupt  Terrorist,  who  exercised  the  chief  sway  over 
the  Commune  of  Paris,  made  a  furious  assault  on  the 
Christian  religion,  the  very  profession  of  which  he 
determined  to  root  out  from  France,  well  knowing  it 
to  be  the  foundation  of  all  morality  and  social  order. 
Danton  and  Robespierre  organized  a  party  to  crush 
him.  Hebert  perceived  indications  of  this  movement 
and  began  to  tremble.  He  complained  in  the  Jacobin 
Club  that  Robespierre  and  Danton  were  plotting 
against  him.  Robespierre,  who  happened  to  be  pres- 
ent on  that  occasion,  immediately  ascended  the 
tribune,  and  hurled  his  anathemas  upon  the  heads  of 
Hebert  and  his  fanatical  followers. 

"There  are  men,"  said  he,  "who,  under  the  pretext 
of  destroying  superstition,  would  fain  make  a  religion 
of  Atheism  itself.  Atheism  is  aristocratic.  The  idea 
of  a  great  Being,  who  watches  over  oppressed  inno- 
cence, and  punishes  triumphant  guilt  is  quite  popular. 
The  people,  the  unfortunate,  applaud  me.  IF  God  did 
not  exist,  it  would  behoove  man  to  invent  him" 

This  declaration  was  received  with  the  greatest  ap- 
plause. The  fate  of  the  Hebertists  was  sealed.  They 
were  impeached  by  St.  Just  in  the  National  Conven- 
tion, on  the  1 3th  of  March,  1794,  arraigned  before  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal,  on  the  2Oth,  and,  after  a  trial 
of  three  days,  were  condemned  to  death.  They  were 
executed,  to  the  number  of  nineteen  persons,  on  the 
24th  of  March,  all  but  two  of  them  betraying  the  most 
abject  weakness  and  terror  in  their  last  moments. 


74  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

There  now  remained  between  Robespierre,  and  the 
possession  of  the  absolute  despotism  at  which  he 
aimed,  only  the  party  headed  by  Danton. 

Prior  to  the  execution  of  the  Hebertists,  the  two 
tyrants  had  been  on  terms  of  the  most  cordial  friend- 
ship. They  had  supported  one  another  in  all  their 
political  designs,  and  Danton  had  recently  lent  his 
powerful  aid  to  his  friend  in  defeating  the  Hebertists. 
But  he  had  now  become  thoroughly  disgusted  with 
the  enormities  of  the  Revolution,  and  earnestly  desired 
to  return  to  a  more  lenient  and  tranquil  system  of 
government. 

In  consequence  of  this  change,  he  became  an  object 
of  mortal  suspicion  and  enmity  to  Robespierre.  He 
was  repeatedly  warned  of  his  danger,  but  disdained  to 
fly,  replying  that  his  enemies  dared  not  arrest  him, 
as  his  name  was  still  universally  feared.  Nevertheless, 
on  the  ist  of  April,  1794,  barely  a  week  after  the  death 
of  Hebert,  the  citizens  of  Paris  were  dumbfounded 
by  the  news  that  the  redoubtable  Danton  had  been 
seized  in  his  bed  the  night  before,  and,  with  his  asso- 
ciates, was  a  prisoner  in  the  Luxembourg. 

The  Convention,  mute  with  consternation,  offered 
not  a  shadow  of  opposition  to  the  arraignment  of  Dan- 
ton  and  his  friends.  To  the  number  of  fifteen,  they 
were  brought  to  trial  upon  various  incoherent  and 
improbable  charges.  Danton  defended  himself  with 
lion-like  vigor  and  audacity,  and,  such  was  the  sym- 
pathy aroused  by  his  eloquence,  that  Robespierre  and 
his  enslaved  Revolutionary  Tribunal  were  for  some 
time  in  trepidation  as  to  the  result.  The  despot  finally 


ROBESPIERRE'S  RISE  TO  POWER.  75 

triumphed  by  obtaining  from  the  Convention  an  order 
enjoining  the  judges  to  put  out  of  court  any  prisoners 
who  might  fail  in  respect  to  the  Tribunal.  This  was 
instantly  acted  upon;  Danton  and  his  friends  were 
dragged  away  from  the  bar,  ere  they  had  finished  their 
defense;  and,  on  the  6th  of  April,  all  perished  upon 
the  guillotine. 

Having  thus  trampled  down  all  opposition,  Robes- 
pierre reigned  the  undisputed  despot  of  France.  He 
still  continued  to  reside  in  humble  lodgings,  and  to 
persevere  in  his  plans  for  establishing  the  Republic 
upon  a  basis  of  universal  brotherhood  and  equality. 
Nevertheless,  no  relaxation  took  place  in  the  accursed 
system  of  terror.  On  the  contrary,  the  guillotine  was 
never  so  active  as  during  the  brief  period  of  his  su- 
premacy. The  French  historian,  Thiers,  computes 
that,  in  the  month  of  April,  1794,  two  hundred  and 
sixty-three  persons  perished  upon  the  guillotine.  Dur- 
ing the  months  that  followed,  the  executions  increased 
with  frightful  rapidity.  In  May,  three  hundred  and 
twenty-four  were  beheaded ;  in  June,  six  hundred  and 
seventy-two;  in  July,  eight  hundred  and  thirty-five. 

Robespierre,  St.  Just  and  Couthon  were  the  three 
leading  men  in  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  and 
were  hence  called  the  Triumvirate.  Any  man,  woman, 
or  child  who  fell  under  their  suspicion,  as  being  un- 
friendly to  the  Revolution,was  immediately  accused,  ar- 
rested and  thrown  into  prison.  The  eighteen  prisons 
of  Paris  were  thus  choked  with  victims.  To  be  sus- 
pected meant  almost  certain  death.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
tyrant  realized  that  the  continuance  of  his  power  de- 


76  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

pended  on  his  persevering  energy  in  the  same  detestable 
measures  by  which  he  had  obtained  it. 

At  this  crisis,  Robespierre  suddenly  absented  himself 
from  the  Convention  and  the  Committees  of  Public 
Safety  and  of  General  Security.  He  now  passed  whole 
days  together,  wandering  about  the  fields  in  profound 
meditation.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  planning  some 
master  stroke  to  rid  the  Convention  and  Committees  of 
his  remaining  enemies.  Nevertheless,  no  one  dared  to 
oppose  any  of  his  measures,  on  account  of  the  terror  he 
inspired.  Occasionally  he  made  his  appearance  in  the 
Club  of  Jacobins — where  he  exercised  unlimited 
authority — to  mount  the  tribune  and  address  his  fellow- 
members  in  impassioned  tones  of  complaint ;  otherwise 
he  kept  wholly  to  himself,  brooding  and  silent,  like  one 
who  lives  in  apprehension  of  approaching  death. 

At  the  time  of  M.  Vauban's  arrest,  he  was  the  idol  of 
the  Jacobins;  controlled  the  National  Convention 
through  fear;  was  the  supreme  arbiter  in  the  Commit- 
tee of  Public  Safety  and  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal; 
had  the  unqualified  support  of  the  National  Munic- 
ipal guards  and  gendarmes ;  and  was  regarded  by  the 
mob  of  Paris  as  the  ideal  republican  of  the  nation. 

Yet,  it  was  against  such  an  all-powerful  tyrant  that 
Jean  Louvet,  an  obscure  and  outlawed  Representative, 
had  pitted  his  puny  strength. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

JEAN   LOUVET  OPENS  THE  GAME. 

IT  was  midnight  in  the  Maison  Rousseau.  A  light 
burned  in  Dr.  Narbonne's  office,  sending  its  cheering 
rays  athwart  the  gloomy  street;  the  rest  of  the  house 
was  darkened. 

Belated  pedestrians  noticed  that  the  shutters  of  every 
window  except  one  were  tightly  closed ;  but,  believing 
that  this  had  been  done  to  insure  quiet  and  repose  for 
the  doctor's  patients,  attached  no  significance  to  the 
matter. 

Nevertheless,  behind  two  of  the  shutters,  in  a  large 
room  on  the  third  floor,  a  company  of  conspirators 
were  in  session.  At  one  end  of  the  apartment  sat  Jean 
Louvet,  behind  a  table  littered  with  papers.  Two 
candles,  placed  at  opposite  ends  of  the  table,  threw  a 
dim  light  upon  his  resolute  face,  and  a  gavel  rested  be- 
tween them,  the  emblem  of  his  authority. 

At  his  right  sat  Dr.  Narbonne,  bending  over  a  table 
of  smaller  size,  recording  on  the  pages  of  an  open  book 
the  minutes  of  the  mysterious  meeting.  Opposite  them 
sat  a  number  of  aristocratic  looking  men  and  women, 
whom  the  inhabitants  of  St.  Antoine  supposed  to  be 
the  doctor's  patients ;  but  who  were  in  reality  the  secret 
agents  of  a  political  party  then  in  exile. 

[77] 


78  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

After  the  usual  routine  business  of  such  meetings 
had  been  transacted,  Jean  Louvet  arose  from  his  chair, 
and  addressed  the  conspirators  as  follows : 

"You  have  all  doubtless  heard  of  my  attack  on  Robe- 
spierre this  morning  on  the  floor  of  the  National  Con- 
vention, and  have,  perhaps,  censured  it  as  an  act  of 
folly.  Let  me  say  a  few  words  in  explanation.  To 
begin,  you  must  remember  that  I  procured  my  election 
as  a  Representative  with  the  sole  object  of  striking  a 
decisive  blow  for  our  party  whenever  the  opportunity 
should  arrive.  I  believed  that  the  conditions  were  fav- 
orable for  a  coup  d'etat  this  morning,  and  I  think  that 
they  are  so  yet.  Consequently,  I  trust  you  will  support 
me  in  the  design  I  have  in  view." 

He  paused,  as  if  half  expecting  some  sign,  or  word 
of  protest;  but,  observing  that  his  auditors  were  all 
eagerness  and  attention,  went  on : 

"If  the  tyrant  is  ever  to  be  overthrown,"  he  cried, 
"it  must  be  done  now  while  the  majority  of  Repre- 
sentatives are  his  secret  enemies.  We  must  act  prompt- 
ly and  with  courage,  if  we  would  hope  to  succeed.  In- 
deed, the  least  delay  will  prove  fatal  to  our  chances; 
for  it  is  rumored  that  Robespierre  intends  shortly  to 
send  all  his  foes  to  the  guillotine.  With  his  opponents 
out  of  the  way,  he  will  become  the  absolute  dictator  of 
France,  and  all  hope  of  ever  accomplishing  his  downfall 
will  be  ended." 

Waiting  until  the  expressions  of  dismay  produced 
by  these  words  had  subsided,  Jean  Louvet  resumed, 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction: 


JEAN   LOUVET    OPENS   THE   GAME.  79 

"I  perceive  you  all  realize  that  I  speak  the  truth. 
Now  listen  to  me  further.  I  have  been  meditating  a 
plot  for  Robespierre's  ruin;  but  I  cannot  put  it  into 
execution  without  your  aid.  You  must  not  ask  me  to 
explain  its  nature;  for  it  must  remain  my  own  secret 
for  the  present.  I  shall  expect  no  questioning,  but  im- 
plicit obedience  to  my  commands.  Remember  that  you 
have  elected  me  your  chief,  and  have  sworn  to  be 
faithful  to  me  unto  death.  Can  I  count  on  you  to  abide 
by  your  oaths  ?" 

"You  can,"  cried  the  conspirators  in  chorus. 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  Louvet,  as  he  resumed  his 
seat  at  the  table,  "I  will  begin  my  game  of  politics  at 
once." 

He  stopped  a  moment  to  examine  a  paper  on  the 
table,  and  then  called  out: 

"Let  the  brother  who  is  known  as  Andre  the  Barber 
approach." 

A  slightly  built  man,  attired  in  the  height  of  the  pre- 
vailing fashion,  rose  from  his  chair  and  came  forward. 

"Does  Robespierre  still  call  upon  you  to  shave  him  ?" 
asked  Louvet. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  with  a  scornful  smile ; 
adding,  "He  is  in  deadly  fear  of  assassination  and 
would  trust  no  other  man  to  place  a  razor  near  his 
throat." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Louvet,  "you  must  be  in  his  con- 
fidence, and  doubtless  learn  many  of  his  designs." 

"As  regards  his  confidence,"  answered  Andre,  with 
a  self-satisfied  smirk,  "I  have  already  told  you  that  the 


8O  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

tyrant  trusts  me  more  than  any  other  person  in  the 
kingdom " 

Louvet  interrupted  him  with  a  quick  gesture. 

"In  the  Republic  you  should  say,"  he  interposed,  sig- 
nificantly; adding,  "You  should  remember,  sir,  that 
there  is  no  kingdom  in  France  at  present. ' 

Apologizing  humbly  for  his  error,  Andre  the  Barber 
assumed  an  air  of  mystery,  and,  bending  over  the  table 
toward  his  chief,  whispered  impressively : 

"You  asked  me  if  I  had  learned  any  of  Robespierre's 
designs.  He  is  not  the  kind  of  man  to  disclose  them. 
Nevertheless,  I  am  all  eyes  and  ears  when  in  his  pres- 
ence." 

"Then  you  have  something  of  importance  to  tell 
me?" 

The  young  man  dropped  his  voice  to  a  still  lower 
whisper,  and  replied,  very  gravely : 

"I  have  seen  a  list  of  those  whom  the  tyrant  intends 
to  destroy.  While  I  was  curling  his  hair  yesterday, 
he  drew  it  from  his  pocket,  and  began  examining  it 
under  my  very  eyes." 

Jean  Louvet  started  back  amazed. 

"You  astound  me!"  he  cried.  "What  you  tell  me 
seems  incredible !" 

Andre  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully. 

"If  you  do  not  believe  what  I  tell  you,  why  question 
me  ?"  he  asked. 

"It  is  not  that  I  doubt  your  word,"  returned  his 
chief;  "but  I  am  surprised  at  Robespierre's  lack  of 
caution.  He  is  the  most  suspicious  and  secretive  of 
men." 


JEAN   LOUVET    OPENS   THE   GAME.  8 1 

"Nevertheless,  I  saw  the  list  I  have  mentioned."* 

"But  how  do  you  know  that  the  paper  was  what  you 
describe  it?" 

"I  will  tell  you,"  answered  Andre.  "Supposing  at 
first  that  the  names  on  the  slip  were  those  of  persons 
whom  he  wished  to  honor,  I  asked  Robespierre  if  mine 
was  among  them." 

"And  he  answered  ?" 

"That  I  should  rejoice  in  its  omission,  as  the  names 
on  the  list  were  those  of  persons  who  had  come  under 
his  suspicion." 

"Which  means,  of  course,"  added  Louvet,  grimly, 
"that  they  are  those  of  enemies  whom  he  intends 
sending  to  the  guillotine." 

"Exactly,"  returned  Andre;  "for  everyone  knows 
that  to  be  suspected  by  Robespierre  is  equivalent  to  be- 
ing condemned." 

"Did  you  see  any  of  the  names  ?" 

"No;  for  he  was  very  careful  I  should  not.  The 
moment  I  referred  to  the  paper,  he  returned  it  to  his 
pocket,  and  immediately  changed  the  conversation  to 
other  subjects." 

Jean  Louvet  motioned  the  young  man  to  return  to 
his  seat,  and  fell  to  pondering.  Minute  after  minute 
passed  by;  yet  he  never  once  changed  his  attitude  of 

*  Carlyle  and  several  other  historians  assert  that  Robes- 
pierre's barber  was  the  first  to  see  the  list  of  the  proscribed, 
which  the  tyrant  is  said  to  have  prepared,  in  anticipation  of 
another  attack  upon  his  enemies  in  the  National  Convention. 
He  seems  to  have  reposed  great  confidence  in  his  barber, 


82  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

profound  mental  absorption.  His  eyes  were  fixed  stead- 
fastly upon  the  paper  before  him,  his  chin  rested  be- 
tween his  palms,  and  his  elbows  upon  the  table.  At 
intervals  he  knit  his  brows  as  if  endeavoring  to  solve 
some  puzzling  proposition.  Thus  half  an  hour  elapsed, 
during  which  the  conspirators  remained  motionless 
and  silent,  regarding  him  with  the  keenest  anxiety. 

"Is  the  chief  confronted  with  some  inextricable  prob- 
lem ?"  they  asked  themselves. 

A  problem,  yes !  But  not  an  inextricable  one.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  conference  with  his  associates, 
Jean  Louvet  had  a  well  defined  scheme  to  propose  to 
them;  but  the  information  imparted  to  him  by 
Andre  the  Barber  had  caused  him  to  make  a  complete 
change  in  this  plan.  With  Robespierre's  list  of  the 
proscribed,  he  now  proposed  to  overthrow  the  tyrant 
by  means  of  a  brilliant  coup  d'etat,  and  his  half  hour  of 
concentrated  reflection  had  been  devoted  to  perfecting 
the  details  of  this  plot. 

Suddenly  he  raised  his  head,  and,  beckoning  Andre 
the  Barber  to  again  come  forward,  whispered  these 
words  in  his  ear : 

"The  list  you  speak  of  must  be  procured  at  all  haz- 
ards. It  is  essential  to  the  success  of  my  design.  You 
will,  therefore,  employ  every  means  in  your  power  to 
obtain  it,  or,  failing  in  that,  send  word  to  me  imme- 
diately." 

With  this  command,  he  dismissed  Andre  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  and  called  upon  another  of  the  conspirators 
to  come  forward. 


JEAN   LOUVET    OPENS   THE   GAME  83 

"I  will  next  question  the  brother  who  passes  as 
Simon  the  Jailer,"  he  cried. 

The  stockily-built  man,  who  has  already  figured  in 
these  pages,  advanced  to  his  chief's  table,  and  assumed 
an  attitude  of  attention. 

"Have  you  many  distinguished  prisoners  in  your 
charge  just  now?"  began  Louvet. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  other,  promptly;  "the  Lux- 
embourg is  filled  with  celebrities." 

"Can  you  name  any  one  who  has  friends  in  the  Con- 
vention ?" 

Simon  the  Jailer  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  an- 
swered : 

"I  know  of  one  who  has  a  very  powerful  friend  in 
that  body — Madame  Fontenai,  with  whom  Representa- 
tive Tallien  is  said  to  be  in  love." 

"Was  she  arrested  as  a  suspect?  Is  she  in  danger 
of  the  guillotine  ?" 

"She  was  imprisoned  by  Robespierre's  order,  and  ex- 
pects daily  to  go  to  her  death." 

"Capital !"  ejaculated  Louvet,  with  a  pleased  smile. 
"Nothing  could  be  more  fortunate  for  my  purposes. 
Do  you  see  this  lady  often?" 

"Whenever  I  feel  so  disposed." 

"Then  listen  to  these  directions  carefully:  When 
you  return  to  the  Luxembourg  in  the  morning,  seek  out 
this  Madame  Fontenai,  and  persuade  her  to  write  a 
pleading  letter  to  her  lover.  Impress  upon  her  the  ne- 
cessity of  playing  upon  his  selfishness.  She  must  write 
to  M.  Tallien  that  she  has  information  that  his  own 
head  is  in  danger;  that  Robespierre  is  plotting  to  de- 


84  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

stroy  him  and  all  his  friends.  M.  Tallien  loves  and 
trusts  the  woman  implicitly,  and  will  place  absolute 
reliance  on  her  word.  Convince  Madame  Fontenai, 
therefore,  that,  unless  she  arouses  him  to  action,  she  is 
hopelessly  lost.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Perfectly;  but  how  is  her  letter  to  reach  Tallien's 
hand?" 

"You  must  offer  to  act  as  their  go-between,  and  de- 
liver it  to  M.  Tallien  yourself.  Can  I  rely  upon  you  to 
do  this?" 

"I  will  not  fail  you." 

Jean  Louvet  dismissed  Simon  the  Jailer  with  a 
gracious  nod,  and  then  commanded  Fran9ois  the  Idler 
to  appear  before  him. 

"Well,"  he  said,  when  the  latter  had  taken  his  posi- 
tion at  the  table,  "what  is  the  present  temper  of  the 
people?" 

"They  still  adore  Robespierre,  but  are  beginning  to 
murmur  at  so  much  bloodshed." 

"Naturally,"  said  Louvet  with  a  sad  smile.  "They 
would  be  worse  than  fiends  if  they  did  not."  He 
paused  a  moment  to  meditate  and  added,  "Do  you  think 
they  would  support  Robespierre  against  the  National 
Convention  ?" 

"That  depends  upon  the  issue,"  answered  Frangois, 
dryly. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"That  they  would  support  the  side  that  stood  out  for 
equality  and  freedom.  Just  now  they  believe  that 
Robespierre  is  their  best  friend.  They  regard  him  as 


JEAN   LOU  VET    OPENS  THE   GAME.  85 

an  incorruptible  patriot,  and  not  as  the  despot  that 
he  is." 

"But  if  the  Convention  should  denounce  him  as  a 
tyrant?" 

"It  would  be  a  hazardous  chance ;  but  it  might  suc- 
ceed, if  supported  by  proofs." 

"Then  we  must  see  to  it  that  the  proofs  are  forth- 
coming," returned  Louvet. 

And,  bidding  Frangois  return  to  his  seat,  he  bent  over 
the  table,  and  set  about  writing  a  letter. 

For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  not  a  sound  broke  the 
silence  of  the  room,  save  the  rapid  scratching  of  his 
pen  over  the  paper.  Then,  having  finished  the  missive, 
he  folded,  sealed  and  addressed  it,  and  motioned  Fran- 
gois to  again  approach  him. 

"You  will  deliver  this  message  to  Representative 
Barrere  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,"  he  said,  as  he 
delivered  it  into  the  young  man's  keeping. 

"To  Barrere,  did  you  say  ?"  asked  Frangois  in  sur- 
prise. "Why,  he  is  Robespierre's  most  intimate 
friend." 

"But  an  older  and  truer  friend  to  your  chief,"  re- 
turned Louvet,  regarding  him  with  a  peculiar  smile. 
"Can  I  trust  you  to  deliver  the  letter  to  M.  Barrere  in 
person?"  he  added. 

"You  can." 

"And  return  to  me  immediately  with  the  answer?" 

"You  can  trust  me." 

"Very  well  then,  you  may  resume  your  seat." 

After  questioning  and  giving  directions  to  several 


86  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

others  in  the  company,  Jean  Louvet  announced  that  the 
conference  was  at  an  end. 

As  Andre  the  Barber,  Simon  the  Jailer,  Frangois 
the  Idler,  and  their  fellow  agents  passed  through  the 
door,  he  slipped  in  each  of  their  hands  a  scrap  of  paper 
on  which  was  written : 

"/  shall  expect  you  to  report  to  me  here  to-morrow 
night  at  the  same  hour." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

LOVE  CONQUERS  DISCRETION. 

THE  secret  meeting  over,  Louvet  retired  to  an  apart- 
ment in  the  rear  of  the  mansion,  ostensibly  to  obtain 
a  few  hours  of  repose,  but  in  reality  to  ponder  upon  the 
plot  he  had  just  set  in  motion. 

"To  accomplish  Robespierre's  downfall — what  a 
tremendous  task !"  he  muttered,  as  he  paced  nervously 
to  and  fro.  "Yet,  since  Andre  informed  me  of  that 
list  of  the  suspected,  I  am  more  hopeful  of  success  than 
before."  And  he  added,  with  a  smile  of  triumph — 
"With  that  list  once  in  my  possession,  I  do  not  see  how 
my  plot  can  fail." 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  the  smile  disappeared,  and  an 
expression  of  anxiety  clouded  his  brow. 

"But  can  Andre  procure  me  that  paper?"  he  asked 
himself.  "He  is  artful,  sagacious  and  daring,  I  know; 
but  supposing  that  in  this  case  he  should  fail  me?" 

The  mere  possibility  of  such  a  misadventure  caused 
him  to  tremble  and  turn  pale  with  apprehension ;  for,  to 
the  successful  execution  of  his  newly-formed  designs, 
the  possession  of  Robespierre's  list  was  essential.  In- 
deed, without  it,  his  coup  d'etat  must  fail. 

"Oh,  why  did  I  enter  upon  this  desperate  game  be- 
fore securing  the  document?"  he  cried.  "I  have  acted 

[87] 


88  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

rashly,  nay,  madly  in  planning  this  affair ;  but  is  it  too 
late  to  retract  ?" 

This  question  he  asked  himself  over  and  over  again, 
each  time  with  increased  anxiety.  A  hundred  wild 
projects  to  communicate  with  his  agents,  and  warn 
them  to  remain  inactive  until  they  met  again,  hurried 
one  after  another  through  his  mind;  but  all  were  im- 
practicable and  had  to  be  abandoned.  He  flung  himself 
down  in  an  armchair,  and  remained  motionless  and  ab- 
sorbed for  hours.  At  last  he  perceived  a  dull,  grey  light 
glimmering  through  the  panes  of  the  windows,  and, 
going  to  one  that  overlooked  the  garden,  drew  aside 
the  curtains  and  glanced  out. 

Above,  the  sky  was  glowing  with  the  rosy  light  of 
dawn;  below,  a  dreamy  mist  enveloped  everything. 
Yet  from  beneath  the  mysterious  curtain  that  hid  the 
garden  from  his  view,  arose  the  joyous  caroling  of 
birds,  and  the  intoxicating  incense  of  the  honeysuckle, 
rose  and  bindweed.  Entranced  by  such  delicious  warb- 
lings  and  odors,  Jean  Louvet  forgot  his  fears,  and 
allowed  the  pleasing  reveries  they  suggested  to  possess 
him.  Gradually,  all  thoughts  of  the  plot  in  which  he 
was  engaged  passed  out  of  his  consciousness,  and 
in  their  place  arose  bright  visions  of  happiness  and 
love. 

Love. 

In  Jean  Louvet's  mind  the  idea  suggested  by  this 
word  was  invariably  associated  with  the  image  of 
Louise  Vauban.  It  is  true  that  he  had  spoken  to  her 
but  once  in  his  life ;  nevertheless  she  had  hallowed  his 
dreams  and  reveries  for  many  months.  He  had  first 


LOVE  CONQUERS  DISCRETION.  89 

met  her  at  a  state  reception,  given  by  the  Mayor  of 
Paris,  and,  on  beholding  her  marvelous  beauty  and  dis- 
tinguished bearing,  experienced  an  agitation  of  the 
heart  which  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  define. 

Now  Louvet  possessed  one  of  those  rarely  constituted 
natures,  which  combine  the  prompt  resolution  of  the 
man  of  action,  with  the  sensitive  intuition  of  the  poet. 

His  soul  was  overflowing  with  enthusiasms,  aspira- 
tions, rhapsodies.  The  great  heart  of  Nature  throbbed 
in  unison  with  his  own.  She  revealed  to  him  secrets, 
which  she  jealously  guarded  from  her  less-favored 
sons,  and,  on  his  first  meeting  with  Louise,  unveiled 
the  greatest  of  all  her  secrets — the  divine  mystery  of 
human  love. 

Louise  was  standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  ball- 
room, illuminated  by  the  mellow  light  of  a  thousand 
candles.  She  was  leaning  gracefully  against  one  of  the 
lintels,  a  pose  that  showed  to  advantage  the  exquisite 
curves  of  her  figure.  She  was  attired  in  a  close  fitting 
bodice  of  pale  silk,  and  a  clinging  gown  of  the  same 
material,  that  suggested  an  entrancing  shapeliness  of 
limb.  Her  bodice,  cut  away  at  the  neck,  revealed  the 
gentle  swelling  of  her  bosom,  yet  only  half  revealed,  for 
the  open  space  was  filled  in  with  a  filmy  cloud  of  snow 
white  lace. 

These  charms  Louvet  beheld  from  a  distance;  but, 
when  he  drew  near  the  door,  and  ventured  a  glance  at 
her  lovely  face,  dimpling  and  glowing  with  smiles  and 
blushes,  she  returned  his  look  with  a  soft  beam  of  her 
lustrous  eyes,  and  he  was  love-smitten  on  the  instant. 

For  that  brief  look  had  kindled  a  consuming  fire  in 


9O  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

his  soul,  and  the  agitation,  which  had  been  hitherto  in- 
definable, he  now  recognized  as  the  first  emotions  of 
divine  passion. 

Many  times  since  that  meeting  he  had  seen  Louise 
Vauban  at  a  distance,  generally  in  the  company  of  her 
father.  He  had  met  her  at  fetes,  balls  and  receptions — 
where  he  might  easily  have  been  presented  to  her — yet, 
such  was  the  adoring  reverence  in  which  he  held  the 
lovely  girl,  that  he  had  not  presumed  to  obtrude  himself 
upon  her  notice,  until  she  stood  in  sore  need  of  a  brave 
man's  assistance.  He  had  then  offered  his  services  to 
her,  and  they  had  been  accepted.  With  sparkling  eyes 
and  glowing  cheeks  he  now  recalled  her  fervent  ex- 
clamation— "I  trust  you,  M.  Louvet,  and  gratefully  ac- 
cept your  brave  offer !"  But  had  he  not  neglected  to 
provide  for  her  safety  while  plotting  the  rescue  of  her 
father? 

This  query  suggested  many  terrible  possibilities  to 
his  excited  mind. 

Supposing  that  Louise  Vauban  should  attempt  to  ef- 
fect the  release  of  her  father  on  her  own  account  ?  Or 
that  she  should  become  involved  in  a  plot  on  his  behalf, 
and  so  incur  the  displeasure  of  Robespierre  ?  In  either 
event  she  would  be  arrested  as  a  suspect,  and  eventually 
end  her  fair  young  life  upon  the  guillotine. 

"I  must  hasten  to  her  without  the  least  delay,"  he  re- 
flected, with  terror  in  his  heart.  "I  must  risk  every- 
thing to  warn  her  to  remain  quiet." 

He  was  about  to  start  out  upon  this  mission,  when  the 
indiscretion  of  the  act  made  him  hesitate. 

"No,"  he  muttered,  resolutely,  "I  cannot  venture  out 


LOVE  CONQUERS  DISCRETION.  9! 

of  my  hiding  place  just  now.  It  would  be  mere  mad- 
ness to  do  so ;  for  the  fate  of  every  person  involved  in 
this  conspiracy  depends  upon  my  remaining  free  to 
direct  them.  If  I  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  our  en- 
emies at  this  time  all  would  be  lost." 

Here  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  prayed  earn- 
estly. 

"Into  Thy  hands,  O  God,  I  deliver  my  beloved! 
Guard  her  from  all  peril !  Inspire  her  with  patience  and 
prudence !  Keep  her  in  Thy  safe  keeping  until  I  have 
accomplished  my  purpose!" 

Nevertheless,  his  solicitude  regarding  Louise  was  too 
great  to  admit  of  his  acting  with  discretion ;  for,  assum- 
ing a  disguise,  he  crept  noiselessly  out  of  the  room, 
stole  quickly  down  the  stairs,  and  proceeded  to  the  se- 
cret door  opening  into  the  garden.  It  took  him  but  a 
few  moments  to  withdraw  the  bolts,  turn  the  key  in  its 
rusty  lock,  and  throw  the  door  wide  open. 

Then,  closing  it  softly  behind  him,  he  sallied  forth  on 
his  errand  of  love. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT  BEFELL  ANDRE  THE  BARBER. 

AT  a  later  hour  on  the  same  morning,  Andre  the 
Barber  knocked  on  the  door  of  the  cabinetmaker's 
house,  in  the  Rue  Saint  Honore,  with  the  tools  of  his 
profession  in  his  hand.  He  had  come  to  shave  the  in- 
corruptible visage  and  frizzle  the  immaculate  locks  of 
the  great  Robespierre. 

Upon  being  admitted,  he  greeted  the  servant  with  a 
merry  jest,  and,  without  further  ceremony,  ran  nimbly 
up  the  stairs  to  his  patron's  lodgings;  from  which  it 
may  be  inferred  that  he  was  a  privileged  personage, 
as,  apart  from  his  brother,  Augustin,  and  the  honest 
citizen  with  whom  he  lived,  Robespierre  permitted  to 
no  one  else  such  freedom. 

Indeed  there  existed  between  the  tyrant  and  his  bar- 
ber a  peculiar  relationship  of  confidence  and  familiar- 
ity, which  was  the  logical  result  of  those  anarchistic 
times. 

Andre  found  his  patron  in  a  mood  of  profound  de- 
pression, and,  with  the  art  of  an  accomplished  courtier, 
endeavored  to  raise  the  clouds  of  gloom  from  his  spirits 
by  gay  and  witty  conversation.  In  this  he  succeeded 
so  well  that,  before  his  task  was  half  finished,  the  tyrant 
began  to  respond. 
[92] 


WHAT   BEFELL   ANDRE"    THE   BARBER.  93 

"Do  you  know,  Andre,"  said  he,  as  the  latter  was 
scraping  his  throat  with  a  keen-edged  razor,  "that  you 
are  the  most  trusted  man  in  France?" 

"Indeed?" 

"Undoubtedly,"  went  on  Robespierre;  "for  I  would 
permit  no  one  else  to  do  what  you  are  doing  now." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Andre,  artfully. 

"Then  you  are  far  more  stupid  than  I  supposed. 
Why,  can't  you  realize,  my  honest  fellow,  that  with 
one  sweep  of  your  razor  you  could  end  my  existence, 
and  with  it  the  future  hopes  of  the  Republic  ?" 

Andre  uttered  an  exclamation  of  horror. 

"Oh,  Citizen  Robespierre,  what  a  terrible  thought!" 

"It  is  terrible  indeed,"  returned  the  tyrant  with  a 
shudder.  "Not  that  I  value  my  own  life ;  but  my  assas- 
sination would  mean  the  end  of  liberty,  equality  and 
fraternity  in  France.  There  are  many  traitors  in  the 
National  Convention  who  are  trying  to  bring  this  very 
thing  about,  and  I  alone  can  defeat  them." 

Andre  lengthened  his  face  and  sighed  hypocritically. 

"Ah,  if  all  our  public  men  were  like  you!"  he  said; 
and  a  moment  afterward  he  added,  "but  console  your- 
self, my  generous  patron !  You  are  not  the  only  great 
man  who  has  been  vexed  by  the  machinations  of  wicked 
enemies.  History  is  filled  with  such  examples." 

Robespierre  received  the  compliment,  as  if  it  were 
well  merited,  and  replied  with  a  sad  shake  of  the 
head : 

"Yes,  I  know  what  others  have  suffered  for  the  love 
of  humanity  and  country;  nevertheless,  history  can 


94  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

scarcely  show  a  single  case  that  quite  parallels  my 
own." 

"In  magnanimity,  virtue  and  incorruptible  honesty — 
No !"  exclaimed  Andre  with  well-feigned  enthusiasm. 

"You  flatter  me,  my  good  fellow,"  responded  Robes- 
pierre with  a  pleased  smile.  "I  was  not  alluding  to 
my  virtues,  but  to  my  sufferings.  What  I  intended  to 
say  was  that  no  reformer  in  history  has  met  with  such 
base  ingratitude  from  his  associates." 

"But  the  people  love  you,"  protested  Andre. 

"As  they  loved  Danton,  yes;  but  I  am  not  so  blind 
to  the  fickleness  of  their  affections  as  he  was.  They 
love  me  now,  because  they  believe  me  to  be  their  all- 
powerful  friend  and  protector ;  but  it  is  quite  probable 
that  my  enemies  can  seduce  them  to  abandon  me." 

"Impossible !  There  lives  not  a  man  in  France  who 
would  dare  the  attempt !"  cried  Andre. 

Robespierre's  thin  lips  parted  in  a  sardonic  smile. 

"You  think  so?"  he  inquired  bitterly.  "Then  it  is 
apparent  that  you  hear  but  little  of  the  news.  Why, 
it  was  only  yesterday  that  an  unimportant  Representa- 
tive, named  Jean  Louvet,  had  the  audacity  to  address 
the  National  Convention  and  call  for  my  accusation 
and  arrest." 

"The  infamous  wretch !"  exclaimed  the  patriotic 
barber. 

"Nor  is  that  all,"  resumed  the  tyrant,  his  voice  be- 
coming sterner  and  more  threatening  as  he  proceeded. 
"This  obscure  Representative,  having  failed  to  carry 
his  point,  was  permitted  to  leave  the  Convention  Hall 
unmolested.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  he  had  made  his 


WHAT   BEFELL  ANDRE   THE   PARBER.  9$ 

escape  that  the  Convention  accused  him  of  treason, 
and  declared  him  an  outlaw,  with  a  price  set  upon  his 
head." 

"Then  by  this  time  he  must  have  been  arrested." 

"On  the  contrary  he  is  still  at  large,  owing,  as  I 
have  been  informed,  to  the  interference  of  two  of  his 
friends." 

"The  miscreants!"  muttered  Andre. 

"You  may  well  call  them  that,"  said  Robespierre 
grimly;  adding,  "but  I  know  who  they  are,  and  will 
soon  have  them  lodged  safely  in  prison." 

Then  he  related  all  the  particulars  of  Jean  Louvet's 
capture  by  the  mob  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  and 
of  his  rescue  by  the  timely  arrival  of  his  associates. 

"And  were  the  rascals  who  came  to  his  assistance 
Representatives  also?"  asked  Andre,  leading  him  on 
by  feigning  complete  ignorance  of  the  affair. 

"No,"  replied  Robespierre,  falling  into  the  trap  at 
once;  "they  were  supposedly  honest  republicans  like 
yourself.  One  of  them  is  a  loiterer  who  is  called 
Francois  the  Idler;  the  other  is  employed  in  the  Lux- 
embourg as  a  turnkey,  and  is  known  as  Simon  the 
Jailer." 

Andre's  face  turned  suddenly  pale,  and  his  hand 
trembled  violently.  It  was  fortunate  that  the  tyrant's 
eyes  were  engaged  elsewhere  at  that  moment;  other- 
wise these  evidences  of  emotion  might  have  betrayed 
him. 

For  the  young  man  had  just  listened  to  an  alarming 
revelation.  .  It  did  not  astonish  him  to  hear  the  tyrant 
refer  to  his  Chief's  defiant  conduct  in  the  National 


96  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Convention,  nor  did  it  surprise  him  to  learn  that  his 
patron  had  received  intelligence  of  his  subsequent  cap- 
ture by,  and  escape  from  the  mob.  But  that  Robes- 
pierre actually  knew  the  names  of  the  men  who  had 
saved  Jean  Louvet's  life  was  enough  to  fill  his  heart 
with  consternation. 

"Oh,  if  I  could  only  warn  them  of  their  peril !"  he 
reflected  with  the  keenest  anxiety.  "But  I  fear  it  is 
too  late.  By  this  time  Simon  must  have  returned  to 
his  duties  in  the  Luxembourg,  while  Fra^ois  is  prob- 
ably airing  his  opinions  in  the  cafes  and  clubs  he  fre- 
quents." 

These  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  a  remark  from 
Robespierre. 

"Do  you  know,  my  good  fellow,  that  you  have  posi- 
tively excelled  yourself  this  morning?" 

Andre  turned  quickly  toward  him,  and  observed  that 
he  was  surveying  his  person  in  the  mirror  with  the 
utmost  complacency.  He  had  changed  his  coat  -'.nd 
waistcoat  for  similar  garments  of  a  brighter  hue,  and 
more  elaborate  design,  and  seemed  greatly  pleased  at 
his  appearance. 

"Yes,"  he  resumed,  as  he  patted  the  hair  about  his 
temples,  "you  have  really  lent  dignity  to  my  features 
by  your  skill  in  hairdressing.  Therefore  I  congratulate 
you  before  bidding  you  good-day;  for  I  must  now  be 
off  to  visit  a  person  from  whom  I  expect  to  gain  valu- 
able information." 

Saying  which,  he  smiled  approvingly  upor.  is  faith- 
ful barber,  and  strutted  vainly  out  of  the  room. 

"Miserable  egotist!"  muttered  Andre,  when  the  last 


WHAT   BEFELL   ANDRE  THE   BARBER.  9/ 

sounds  of  his  retreating  footsteps  had  died  away. 
"You  doubtless  believe  that  you  are  the  greatest  of 
living  men;  yet  you  have  just  revealed  to  an  humble 
barber," — and  here  he  laughed  significantly — "the  piti- 
able weakness  of  vanity  in  dress." 

While  these  words  were  trembling  upon  his  lips, 
his  eyes  were  wandering  here  and  there  about  the 
room,  taking  note  of  every  article  of  furniture  it  con- 
tained. 

In  an  alcove  opposite  stood  the  tyrant's  bed — a  plain 
affair  of  uncarved  mahogany,  with  four  straight  posts 
at  the  corners,  supporting  a  canopy  of  coarse  netting. 
Between  the  two  windows,  which  fronted  the  Rue 
Saint  Honore,  appeared  a  narrow  cabinet-desk, 
equipped  with  numerous  little  drawers  and  pigeon- 
holes containing  papers.  A  few  wooden  chairs;  a 
centre-table,  covered  with  books,  pamphlets  and  the 
journals  of  the  day;  and  a  large  mahogany  wardrobe, 
with  a  highly  polished  mirror  inserted  in  the  panel  of 
its  great  door,  completed  the  chamber's  appointments. 

"Where  shall  I  begin?"  thought  Andre,  as  he 
glanced  irresolutely  from  one  object  to  another.  "In 
what  place  has  Robespierre  secreted  his  list  of  doomed 
victims?  The  Chief  has  commanded  me  to  procure 
it  at  all  hazards,  and  I  must  not,  nay  will  not,  fail 
him." 

It  may  appear  improbable  to  the  reader,  that  a  man 
as  shrewd  and  suspicious  as  Robespierre  should  have 
left  his  apartments  in  the  complete  possession  of  his 
barber.  A  few  words  will  be  sufficient  to  explain  this 
apparent  inconsistency : 


98  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  tyrant  reposed 
unlimited  trust  in  Andre,  not  only  because  he  continu- 
ally placed  his  life  at  the  latter's  mercy,  but  because 
Andre  had  acquired  a  subtle  influence  over  his  melan- 
choly disposition.  Moreover,  like  all  despots,  Robes- 
pierre had  certain  favorites  to  whom  he  allowed  privi- 
leges of  an  extraordinary  nature. 

Andre  the  Barber  was  one  of  these. 

"Where  shall  I  begin  ?"  he  asked  himself  again. 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  decide.  Arguing  that 
Robespierre  had  probably  placed  the  list  in  one  of  the 
pigeon-holes,  or  drawers  of  his  cabinet-desk,  he  tip- 
toed softly  across  the  room,  and  began  his  search. 

First  he  made  a  thorough  examination  of  the  pigeon- 
holes. 

They  contained  a  few  bundles  of  letters,  carefully 
arranged  according  to  date,  and  tied  neatly  with  strips 
of  tape.  A  cursory  glance  at  their  contents  informed 
him  that  they  were  of  no  particular  importance. 

He  next  applied  himself  to  forcing  open  the  little 
drawers. 

Producing  a  knife  from  his  pocket,  he  opened  its 
narrowest  blade,  inserted  it  between  the  frame  and 
front  of  the  largest  box,  and  began  to  pry  forward. 

To  his  surprise  he  found  it  unlocked. 

He  pulled  it  from  its  frame,  and  searched  eagerly 
among  its  contents  for  the  list. 

It  was  not  there. 

Finding  that  all  the  other  drawers  were  also  un- 
locked, he  submitted  them,  in  quick  succession,  to  the 
same  scrutiny;  and,  as  his  perilous  task  progressed, 


WHAT   BEFELL  ANDRE  THE  BARBER.  99 

he  became  more  and  more  conscious  of  the  risk  he  was 
incurring,  so  that  the  papers  shook  and  rustled  in  his 
trembling  hands. 

Having  finished  his  examination  of  the  desk  without 
result,  he  next  began  rummaging  the  books  and  pam- 
phlets on  the  centre-table,  thinking  it  possible  that  the 
object  of  his  search  might  have  been  placed  for  safe- 
keeping between  their  covers.  But  here  also  he  was 
disappointed. 

At  last  his  gaze  rested  upon  the  wardrobe. 

At  the  same  instant  a  gleam  of  triumph  flashed  from 
his  eyes,  and  he  muttered  confidently : 

"What  an  idiot  I  am!  If  the  list  is  anywhere,  it 
must  certainly  be  in  the  pocket  of  the  coat  from  which 
Robespierre  produced  it  when  I  last  shaved  him." 

Acting  upon  this  theory,  Andre  crept  noiselessly 
toward  the  wardrobe,  and  slowly  opened  the  door. 
But,  alarmed  at  the  creaking  of  its  hinges,  he  paused 
several  times  in  the  act.  Great  beads  of  perspiration 
exuded  from  his  forehead,  and  his  heart  beat  violently, 
as  he  prepared  to  ransack  the  pockets  of  the  terrible 
despot. 

There  were  coats  and  waistcoats  innumerable,  and 
of  every  conceivable  design,  hanging  in  closely  packed 
masses  from  the  crowded  rows  of  hooks.  Confronted 
with  such  a  multitude  of  garments,  Andre  was  greatly 
bewildered;  nevertheless,  he  persevered  assiduously, 
until  he  at  last  found  the  coat  he  was  in  search  of. 

With  a  smile  of  satisfaction  he  plunged  his  hands 
into  its  pockets. 

They  were  all  empty. 


IOO  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

For  a  moment  he  was  overcome  with  chagrin ;  then, 
setting  his  teeth  resolutely  together,  he  applied  him- 
self to  the  formidable  task  of  rifling  every  pocket  in 
the  wardrobe.  The  excitement,  that  grew  upon  him 
as  he  proceeded,  gradually  dissipated  his  fears,  and 
all  his  faculties  became  concentrated  upon  one  absorb- 
ing object — the  securing  of  Robespierre's  list  of  the 
condemned. 

He  went  through  pocket  after  pocket,  with  the  swift- 
ness and  stealth  of  a  practiced  thief,  muttering  incoher- 
ently, and  vacillating  between  the  extremes  of  hope  and 
despair. 

He  had  been  engaged  in  this  fruitless  quest  for  over 
an  hour,  when  he  heard  the  door  of  the  apartment  open, 
and  drew  back  quickly  with  a  guilty,  startled  look  upon 
his  face.  This  expression  passed  away  in  an  instant, 
however;  for,  when  he  turned  toward  the  door,  his 
countenance  was  wreathed  in  a  smile  of  the  most  child- 
like innocence,  and  his  gaze  was  simplicity  itself. 

Nor  did  that  simple,  honest  gaze  waver  for  a  second 
when  it  encountered  the  crafty,  murderous  eyes  of 
Robespierre. 

The  tyrant  was  standing  within  the  threshold,  sus- 
picious, yellow,  threatening.  His  thin  lips  were  pressed 
tightly  together,  excepting  at  their  corners,  where  they 
curled  up  cruelly,  displaying  two  pointed  teeth.  A 
heavy  menacing  cloud  hung  over  his  brows ;  while  his 
slender  frame  fairly  shook  with  mistrust,  fear  and 
rage. 

Suddenly  he  thrust  a  hand  into  his  coat  pocket,  drew 
forth  a  neatly  folded  paper,  shook  it  in  the  very  face 


WERE     YOU     SEARCHING    MY    POCKETS    FOR    THIS,    VILE 

TRAITOR  ?" — Page   ioi. 


WHAT  BEFELL  ANDR^  THE  BARBER.          tOt 

of  the  smiling  barber,  and  cried  out  in  harsh  forebod- 
ing tones  : 

"Were  you  searching  my  pockets  for  this,  vile 
traitor?" 

Andre  remained  motionless  .and  silent ;  for  he  recog- 
nized the  fatal  list  for  which  he  had  risked  so  much. 


CHAPTER  XL 

HOW  IT  FARED  WITH   SIMON  THE  JAILER. 

WHILE  Andre  the  Barber  was  on  his  way  to  Robes- 
pierre's lodgings,  Simon  the  Jailer  was  returning  to 
his  duties  in  the  Luxembourg.  As  he  was  proceeding 
thither,  he  shook  his  head  doubtfully  and  muttered  at 
frequent  intervals: 

"I  wonder  what  game  the  Chief  is  up  to  now.  I 
wish  he  would  explain  matters  more  clearly,  instead  of 
keeping  his  designs  a  secret.  I'm  no  lover  of  mys- 
teries myself,  and  dislike  acting  in  the  dark ;  but  Jean 
Louvet  loves  secrecy  above  all  things." 

Here  he  frowned  gloomily  and  sighed. 

"Well,"  he  resumed,  after  a  short  period  devoted  to 
silent  meditation,  "I've  sworn  to  obey  the  Chief  blind- 
ly, and  will  keep  my  oath,  no  matter  what  befalls. 
Yes,  I'll  do  my  best  to  s-ee  this  Madame  Fontenai,  and 
persuade  her  to  write  that  letter  to  M.  Tallien." 

While  thus  discoursing  with  himself,  he  came  within 
view  of  the  Luxembourg,  and  quickened  his  footsteps 
in  order  to  report  for  duty  on  time.  At  last  he  arrived 
at  his  destination,  and,  having  apprised  the  chief  jailer 
of  his  return,  passed  into  the  interior  to  resume  his 
functions. 

Now,  although  the  famous  Luxembourg  Prison  had 

[102] 


HOW  IT  FARED  WITH   SIMON  THE  JAILER.    103 

formerly  been  the  magnificent  palace  of  "Monsieur," 
the  revolutionists  had  converted  it  into  a  huge,  loath- 
some dungeon.  Outwardly  it  still  appeared  an  object 
beautiful  to  behold;  but  within  were  filth,  disease  and 
misery.  In  spite  of  its  great  dimensions,  it  was  so 
crowded  with  prisoners  that  it  was  impossible  to  pro- 
vide decent  accommodations  for  half  their  number. 
Every  apartment  from  cellar  to  attic  (the  great  halls, 
galleries,  corridors,  salons)  was  packed  with  victims 
for  the  guillotine;  and,  moreover,  many  of  these  un- 
fortunates had  been  participants  in  the  building's  for- 
mer pleasures,  when  its  walls  resounded  to  the  strains 
of  enlivening  music,  and  the  joyous  laughter  of  "Mon- 
sieur's" guests. 

Alas,  what  a  terrible  change! 

This  desecrated  palace  was  now  the  abode  of  every 
kind  of  suffering.  The  despair  which  reigned  in  the 
breasts  of  its  inmates  was  awful.  One  finished  his  ex- 
istence by  poison ;  another  opened  his  veins  with  a  nail ; 
a  third  dashed  his  brains  out  against  the  walls  of  his 
cell ;  while  many  lost  their  reason. 

Those  who  possessed  sufficient  fortitude  waited  pa- 
tiently for  the  summons  of  the  executioner.  The  legal 
process  which  consigned  them  to  death  was  simple 
and  energetic  in  the  extreme.  Any  person  suspected 
of  being  unfriendly  to  the  Revolution  was  accused  by 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  and  ordered  to  be 
immediately  arrested  and  imprisoned.  The  eighteen 
prisons  of  Paris  were  thus  choked  with  "suspects," 
awaiting  trial  before  the  bar  of  the  Revolutionary  Tri- 
bunal. This  infamous  court  was  a  mockery  of  justice. 


IO4  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

To  be  brought  before  it  meant  one  step  further  on  the 
road  to  death ;  nothing  more.  The  Public  Accuser,  the 
sanguinary  Fouquier-Tinville,  boasted  that  he  seldom 
allowed  a  "suspect"  to  escape  him. 

Having  been  condemned  by  the  Revolutionary  Tri- 
bunal, the  prisoners  were  herded  into  tumbrils,  and 
hurried  away  to  the  frightful  Conciergerie  Prison. 

One  night  of  horror  in  this  death  house;  to  the 
guillotine  to-morrow. 

Yet,  despite  the  grim  shadow  of  this  hideous  scaffold, 
which  hovered  continuously  over  them,  the  prisoners 
formed  habits  of  existing  together  that  were  not  with- 
out social  observances,  politenesses  and  joys.  Dukes 
and  Duchesses,  aristocrats  and  plebeians,  flung  promis- 
cuously together  in  these  loathsome  places,  returned 
to  the  old  system  of  distinction  in  classes,  and  ranked 
themselves  according  to  time-honored  precedent. 

The  aristocrats  sat  down  to  their  lean  dinner  of 
herbs  and  carrion,  not  without  etiquette  and  place-aux- 
dames;  and,  while  inwardly  shuddering  at  the  loath- 
some food  provided,  enlivened  the  meal  with  repartee 
and  laughter.  "Jealousies,  enmities  are  not  wanting, 
nor  flirtations  of  an  effective  character."* 

"Recklessness,  defiant  levity,  the  Stoicism,  if  not  of 
strength,  yet  of  weakness,  has  possessed  all  hearts. 
Weak  Women  and  Ci-devants,  their  locks  not  yet  made 
into  blond  perukes,  their  skins  not  yet  tanned  into 
breeches,  are  accustomed  to  act  the  Guillotine  by  way 
of  pastime.  In  fantastic  mummery,  with  towel-tur- 
bans, blanket-ermine,  a  mock  Sanhedrim  of  Judges 

*  Carlyle's  French  Revolution,  Vol.  III. 


HOW  IT  FARED  WITH  SIMON  THE  JAtLEfc.    10$ 

sits,  a  mock  Tinville  pleads;  a  culprit  is  doomed,  is 
guillotined  by  the  oversetting  of  two  chairs.  Some- 
times we  carry  it  further :  Tinville  himself,  in  his  turn, 
is  doomed,  and  not  to  the  guillotine  alone.  With  black- 
ened face,  hirsute,  horned,  a  shaggy  Satan  snatches  him 
not  unshrieking;  shows  him,  with  outstretched  arms 
and  voice,  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched,  the  worm  that 
dies  not;  the  monotony  of  Hell-pain  and  the  W hat- 
Hour ? — answered  by — It  is  Eternity!" 

Through  this  desecrated  palace  of  fears  and  hero- 
isms, Simon  the  Jailer  proceeded,  until  he  came  to  a 
little  courtyard  where  a  number  of  prisoners  were 
amusing  themselves.  Casting  his  eyes  from  group  to 
group,  he  presently  observed  Madame  Fontenai,  sitting 
gracefully  upon  a  wooden  stool  that  a  chivalrous,  old 
gallant  had  surrendered  to  her.  She  was  plying  her 
needle  rapidly,  while  conversing  with  several  admirers, 
who  were  standing  round  her  lowly  seat,  like  courtiers 
round  the  throne  of  a  queen.  At  intervals  she  raised 
her  beautiful  eyes,  and  laughed  gaily  at  some  sally  of 
wit;  whereupon  the  gentlemen  nodded  their  approval, 
and  re-echoed  her  merriment  in  chorus. 

"How  beautiful  she  is!"  reflected  the  admiring 
Simon.  "And  what  a  heroic  spirit  she  displays  amidst 
all  these  horrors !" 

Indeed,  the  gay  and  volatile  Fontenai,  who  after- 
ward, as  Madame  Tallien,  was  regarded  as  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  charming  women  in  all  France, 
was  now  in  the  flower  of  her  youth,  and  was  already  an 
adept  in  those  countless,  winning  graces  which  rarely 
fail  to  fascinate  and  enslave  the  hearts  of  men. 


I06  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

Drawing  nearer  to  the  light-hearted  group,  Simon 
the  Jailer  awaited  a  favorable  opportunity  to  engage 
her  in  conversation.  The  chance  presented  itself  sooner 
than  he  anticipated.  For  presently  she  laid  aside  her 
needle-work,  arose  from  her  seat,  and  dismissed  her 
admirers  with  a  graceful  curtsy;  after  which  she 
turned  from  them,  with  a  gracious  smile,  and  proceeded 
toward  the  opposite  end  of  the  courtyard. 

As  it  was  apparent  that  she  was  about  to  retire  to 
her  cell  to  enjoy  a  few  hours  of  repose,  Simon  realized 
that  he  must  act  at  once,  or  run  the  doubtful  chance 
of  executing  his  mission  at  another  time.  So,  hasten- 
ing after  the  lady,  he  succeeded  in  reaching  her  side, 
just  as  she  was  in  the  act  of  passing  into  the  corridor 
communicating  with  her  chamber. 

"Pardon  me,  Madame  Fontenai!"  he  began,  in  an 
earnest  undertone;  "but  I  have  something  to  tell  you 
that  concerns  your  future  fate." 

The  lady  paused,  and,  turning  toward  him  with  the 
utmost  dignity, 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  she  demanded  haughtily. 

"Simply  this,  my  dear  madame,"  he  whispered 
eagerly:  "I  am  a  friend  who  would  save  you  from 
death,  if  you  will  permit  me." 

"Save  me?" 

"Aye,  and  a  dear  friend  of  yours  as  well.  You  have 
merely  to  do  as  I  say  to  insure  this  result." 

"But  how  can  I  tell  that  you  speak  the  truth,  sir? 
You  are  my  jailer,  whom  it  would  be  mere  folly  to 
trust." 


HOW  IT  FARED  WITH   SIMON  THE  JAILER.    IO/ 

Simon  the  Jailer  inclined  his  head  to  the  lady  with 
the  easy  grace  of  a  born  aristocrat,  saying : 

"Yet  I  can  prove  my  honesty  if  you  will  allow  me." 

Madame,  who  was  not  devoid  of  penetration,  smiled 
at  this  and  answered : 

"I  will  grant  the  opportunity  you  desire,  if  you  can 
arrange  it." 

At  this  Simon  led  the  way  into  the  corridor;  mo- 
tioned her  to  accompany  him  to  a  place  where  they 
could  not  be  observed ;  and,  when  they  had  reached  it, 
turned  suddenly  toward  her  with  the  question : 

"Do  you  really  believe  me  to  be  a  common  jailer?" 

Madame  Fontenai  laughed  lightly. 

"Why  really,  sir,  I  have  never  given  the  subject  much 
thought,"  she  said ;  "but,  since  you  have  asked  me  the 
question,  I  will  answer — No !" 

"Thank  you !"  he  returned  fervently. 

Then,  knowing  that  their  interview  might  be  inter- 
rupted at  any  moment,  he  proceeded  to  explain  to  her 
the  awful  peril  of  her  position,  and  the  fate  that 
awaited  her  friends  also  in  the  world  outside. 

"Alas,  sir!"  cried  poor  Fontenai,  when  he  had  fin- 
ished. "I  am  aware  that  every  word  you  have  uttered 
is  undeniably  true.  That  my  death  is  near,  I  realize 
only  too  well,  and  I  tremble  when  I  think  of  dear 
Tallien  and  his  associates.  But  what  can  I  do,  sir?" 
she  added,  distractedly.  "For  God's  sake,  advise  me 
how  to  act!" 

"Will  you  promise  to  obey  me  if  I  advise  you  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,"  she  sobbed  in  terror.     "Only  save 


108  THE  MAtf  WHO  DAfcED. 

me;  save  my  friends!  and  I  will  do  anything  you 
ask." 

Simon  the  Jailer  remained  silent  for  a  moment  to 
collect  his  thoughts,  and  then  gave  the  following  in- 
structions to  the  despairing  lady : 

"There  is  but  one  way  to  save  yourself,  madame, 
and,  for  that  matter,  to  save  your  friends  also.  It  is 
this:  Representative  Tallien  has  still  some  power  in 
the  Convention.  He  is  brilliant,  energetic  and  daring ; 
but  at  present  he  fancies  himself  safe.  He  and  his  sup- 
porters seem  to  have  been  lulled  into  a  fatal  sleep ;  for 
they  are  deaf  to  all  words  of  ill-omen." 

Madame  Fontenai  was  greatly  affected  by  this 
speech. 

"Oh,  can  no  one  arouse  him  from  his  lethargy  ?"  she 
moaned. 

"Yes,  my  dear  madame,"  was  Simon's  grave  re- 
sponse. "M.  Tallien  can  be  awakened  by  you." 

Madame  gave  a  little  gasp. 

"Listen !"  he  continued,  in  impressive,  solemn  tones. 
"You  must  be  aware  that  Tallien  loves  you  dearly. 
Therefore  retire  to  your  cell  at  once  and  write  him  an 
appealing  letter,  warning  him  of  the  imminent  peril  of 
his  position.  Conjure  him  to  save  you,  aye,  and  to  save 
himself  as  well,  by  inciting  the  National  Convention 
against  Robespierre.  Tell  him  that  he  is  already 
doomed,  and,  unless  he  acts  promptly  and  with  vigor, 
he  and  his  followers  will  perish  upon  the  guillotine." 

The  lady  drank  in  eagerly  every  word  he  uttered, 
and,  when  he  paused, 


HOW   IT  FARED  WITH  SIMON  THE  JAILER.    IOQ 

"But  who  will  deliver  my  letter  to  M.  Tallien  ?"  she 
asked  anxiously. 

"I  will,"  said  Simon  gallantly;  "so  make  haste  and 
write  it  at  once,  in  order  that  you  may  give  it  into  my 
keeping  as  soon  as  possible." 

Madame  Fontenai  having  retired  to  execute  this 
order,  Simon  the  Jailer  went  about  the  performance  of 
his  duties  as  usual.  He  experienced  a  sense  of  satis- 
faction in  having  succeeded  so  well  with  the  lady;  yet 
he  was  keenly  alive  to  the  difficulties  that  still  con- 
fronted him.  To  obtain  the  letter  was  one  thing;  to 
deliver  it  to  M.  Tallien  was  another.  For  this  famous 
man  was  not  one  to  be  easily  approached.  Moreover, 
as  Simon  would  be  on  duty  until  six  o'clock  that  even- 
ing, his  time  for  finding  the  busy  Representative  was 
limited. 

"If  I  do  not  catch  him  while  he  is  dining  at  home," 
thought  he,  "my  mission  is  likely  to  end  in  failure 
after  all.  For  the  Chief  has  commanded  us  to  report 
to  him  at  twelve  to-night,  and  I'll  have  but  a  few  hours 
to  run  M.  Tallien  to  cover." 

Perhaps  an  hour  had  elapsed,  when  Madame  Fon- 
tenai emerged  from  her  cell,  and  glided  into  the  court- 
yard where  Simon  the  Jailer  was  then  busy.  She  did 
not  approach  him  at  first;  but  gave  him  a  significant 
glance,  which  he  easily  interpreted  as  a  signal  that  she 
had  written  the  letter.  When  a  favorable  opportunity 
offered,  therefore,  he  advanced  cautiously  to  her  side, 
and  received  a  carefully  sealed  missive  from  her  dainty 
hand. 


IIO  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

"That  is  the  letter,  monsieur,"  she  whispered.  "I 
trust  you  will  deliver  it  as  you  promised." 

"I  will  do  my  very  best,"  he  answered. 

And,  placing  the  missive  stealthily  in  his  pocket, 
he  turned  abruptly  away,  and  hurried  into  the  corridor, 
with  the  apparent  intention  of  engaging  in  some  im- 
portant task. 

To  the  credit  of  Simon  be  it  said,  that  the  prisoners 
under  his  charge  were  better  cared  for  and  fed  than 
any  others  in  the  Luxembourg.  Although  he  never 
allowed  a  chance  to  escape  him  of  cursing  all  aristo- 
crats, and  indulging  in  violent  utterances  on  behalf  of 
the  Republic,  he,  nevertheless,  treated  his  high-born 
charges  with  secret  kindness,  keeping  their  cells  as 
neat  and  clean  as  possible  under  the  circumstances,  and 
doing  all  that  lay  in  his  power  to  ameliorate  their  suf- 
ferings. 

He  was  employed  in  scrubbing  the  walls  of  an  old 
royalist's  chamber  shortly  after  parting  with  Madame 
Fontenai,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  chief  jailer 
call  out  from  the  end  of  the  corridor : 

"Simon!  Oh,  Simon!  Where  in  the  devil's  name 
are  you?" 

The  honest  jailer  dropped  his  scrubbing  brushes  in 
an  instant,  and  wiped  the  soap-suds  from  his  hands 
on  a  coarse  towel. 

"I'm  here,  sir,"  he  answered  cheerily,  as  he  hurried 
out  into  the  corridor ;  adding  as  he  approached  his  su- 
perior, "and  on  duty  as  you  may  see  from  my  appear- 
ance." 


HOW   IT   FARED   WITH   SIMON  THE  JAILER.    Ill 

Until  that  moment  he  was  under  the  impression 
that  the  chief  jailer  was  alone;  but  now  he  saw  that 
two  other  men  were  accompanying  him.  One  glance 
at  their  sturdy  figures,  and  the  uniforms  they  wore, 
informed  him  that  they  were  members  of  the  Munic- 
ipal Gendarmes;  but,  as  such  officers  were  frequent 
visitors  to  the  prison,  their  appearance  did  no  disturb 
him. 

"They  have  probably  brought  another  unfortunate 
to  the  Luxembourg,"  he  thought,  "and  wish  to  learn 
if  I  have  accommodations  for  his  safe  keeping." 

But  he  was  soon  undeceived. 

"Is  this  the  man  we  are  to  arrest?"  asked  one,  ad- 
dressing his  superior,  as  he  pointed  toward  him. 

"He  is  known  as  Simon  the  Jailer,"  replied  the 
official  indifferently.  "I  can  tell  you  nothing  further." 

"Then  he  is  the  fellow  we  want,"  said  the  gendarme, 
drawing  a  warrant  of  arrest  issued  by  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  from  his  pocket,  and  coolly  presenting  it 
to  the  astonished  Simon. 

"Unfold  it  and  read !"  he  commanded. 

Simon  the  Jailer  perused  the  document  with  bulging 
eyes,  and  returned  it  to  the  gendarme  with  a  groan  of 
despair :  for  it  accused  him  of  being  a  friend  of  the  no- 
torious outlaw,  Jean  Louvet,  and  of  having  assisted 
him  in  escaping  apprehension  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine. 

"Well,"  said  the  gendarme,  as  he  returned  the  docu- 
ment to  his  pocket,  "are  you  ready  to  accompany  us 
before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal  ?" 


112  THE   MAN   WHO   DARFD. 

"I  am,"  replied  Simon,  despairingly. 

Whereupon  the  two  gendarmes  led  him  forth  from 
the  Luxembourg  with  Madame  Fontenai's  compromis- 
ing letter  upon  his  person. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  THE  IDLER. 

THE  sun  had  mounted  high  in  the  heavens,  before 
Frangois  the  Idler,  swinging  a  cane  in  his  hand,  started 
to  deliver  the  letter  which  Jean  Louvet  had  written  to 
Representative  Barrere. 

After  visiting  the  Convention  Hall,  and  learning  that 
the  rich  republican  had  not  left  his  country  house  that 
day  to  attend  the  meeting  of  Representatives,  he  turned 
away  and  sauntered  slowly  toward  Barrere's  villa, 
which  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  estate  at  Clichy, 
a  suburb  of  Paris.  As  the  day  was  warm,  and  the  dis- 
tance long,  however,  he  performed  the  journey  leis- 
urely, stopping  for  rest  and  refreshment  at  every  pub- 
lic house  along  the  way.  In  fact  he  had  acquired  such 
lounging,  dilatory  habits  in  his  character  of  Idler, 
that  he  could  hardly  be  blamed  for  his  shortcomings 
in  this  respect. 

Nor  could  he  be  held  accountable  for  that  inborn 
love  of  nature,  which  prompted  him  to  pause,  at  fre- 
quent intervals,  to  admire  the  lovely  bits  of  landscape, 
that  appeared  at  every  turn  in  the  road  after  he  had 
left  Paris,  and  to  make  many  excursions  into  the  bor- 
dering meadows  to  gather  nosegays  of  bright-hued 
flowers. 


JI4  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

s"  For  Francois  was  a  true  Frenchman,  ever  ready  to 
respond  to  the  allurements  of  gayety  and  beauty. 

It  was  not  until  afternoon,  therefore,  that  he  reached 
Barrere's  villa,  which  occupied  an  artificial  plateau 
rising  above  a  fairy-like  region  of  velvety  lawns,  trees, 
graveled  walks  and  flower  beds. 

As  he  passed  through  the  gate,  and  beheld  all  the 
beauties  of  the  place,  he  could  not  keep  from  smiling  at 
the  display  of  so  much  luxuriance  in  a  republican. 

"'Tis  fortunate  you  are  a  friend  of  Robespierre, 
my  good  Barrere,"  he  murmured  good-naturedly,  "or 
this  extravagant  home  of  yours  might  cost  you  your 
head." 

While  thinking  in  this  wise  he  arrived  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  splendid  house,  and  announced  to  the 
servant  in  attendance  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  a  mes- 
sage to  Representative  Barrere. 

"But  my  master  is  ill,"  protested  the  lackey,  "and 
cannot  be  disturbed." 

"Indeed?"  cried  Francois,  elevating  his  eyebrows 
doubtfully. 

"I  have  said  it,"  growled  the  lackey  very  sullenly, 
"and  I  care  not  whether  you  believe  it,  or  not." 

At  this  Frangois  assumed  an  air  of  authority,  and 
declared,  that,  even  if  his  master  were  dying,  he  must 
see  him  without  further  delay. 

"Stand  aside,  you  rascal!"  he  exclaimed  angrily, 
"or  I  will  give  you  a  taste  of  this  cane." 

And,  accompanying  the  words  with  a  wave  of  his 
gold-headed  walking  stick,  he  pushed  resolutely  for- 
ward into  the  great  hall. 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS   THE   IDLER.  115 

There  was  something  so  compelling  in  his  tone  and 
manner  that  the  lackey  dropped  insolence  for  apology, 
and  led  the  way  into  an  ante-room  to  the  right  of  the 
great  corridor. 

"Pray  be  seated,  monsieur!"  he  said  humbly,  as  he 
pointed  to  an  armchair  near  a  window ;  adding,  "Your 
name,  please!  so  that  I  can  inform  my  master  who  is 
awaiting  him." 

This  query  placed  Frangois  in  an  awkward  position ; 
for  it  seemed  hardly  probable  that  the  proud  Barrere 
would  grant  a  mere  idler  like  himself  the  desired  inter- 
view. True,  he  might  have  delivered  the  letter  to  the 
lackey,  with  instructions  to  hand  it  to  his  master;  but 
Jean  Louvet  had  strictly  commanded  him  to  deliver  it 
in  person. 

"The  Chief  must  have  had  some  good  reason  for 
issuing  such  a  strict  order,"  he  reflected,  "and  I'll  obey 
him,  even  if  it  is  necessary  to  employ  force." 

While  these  thoughts  were  passing  through  his  mind, 
the  lackey  stood  before  him,  awaiting  an  answer  to  his 
question.  Receiving  none,  he  again  ventured  to  ask : 

"Your  name,  if  you  please,  monsieur?" 

This  persistency  on  the  lackey's  part  suggested  an 
idea  to  Frangois  which  he  deterrrlined  to  act  upon  at 
once.  Realizing  that,  if  he  complied  with  the  rules  of 
etiquette,  he  would  be  defeated  in  his  purpose,  he 
sprang  suddenly  to  his  feet  and  seized  the  servant  by 
the  arm,  shouting  angrily : 

"My  name  be  damned,  you  impudent  knave !  Come, 
sir,  conduct  me  into  your  master's  presence  at  once, 
or  I  will  wring  your  neck !" 


Il6  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

The  astonished  servant  received  this  tirade  with 
cries  for  help;  whereupon  several  of  his  comrades, 
alarmed  by  the  disturbance,  came  running  toward  the 
ante-room  to  learn  what  was  the  matter.  As  they 
rushed,  one  after  another,  into  the  room,  Frangois 
withdrew  into  a  corner,  gave  a  twist  to  the  handle  of 
his  walking  stick,  whipped,  from  its  place  of  conceal- 
ment in  the  wood,  a  long  narrow  blade,  and  assumed 
an  attitude  of  resolute  defense. 

The  lackies,  imagining  that  the  house  had  been  in- 
vaded by  a  lunatic,  fell  over  one  another  in  their  haste 
to  retreat  through  the  door,  meanwhile  giving  utter- 
ance to  such  cries  of  affright  that  their  master  came  out 
of  the  room  where  he  had  been  resting,  and  appeared  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  crying  t 

"In  the  name  of  liberty,  gctod  citizens !  what  means 
this  clamor?" 

Before  any  of  his  servants  could  reply,  Francois  the 
Idler  sauntered  out  of  the  ante-room,  strode  leisurely 
to  the  foot  of  the  flight,  saluted  the  Representative 
with  his  sword,  and  said  calmly : 

"It  means,  Citizen  Barrere,  that  I  have  been  treated 
with  gross  insolence  by  your  servants." 

He  accompanied  these  words  with  such  an  admirable 
air  of  bravado  that  Barrere  did  not  doubt  he  spoke  the 
truth.  He  was  about  to  reprimand  his  lackies  when  he 
fortunately  recollected  that  the  man  who  made  this 
charge  was  a  total  stranger.  So  he  temporized  the 
matter  by  expressing  a  civil  regret,  and  then  suddenly 
asking  Frangois  what  business  had  brought  him  to  his 
house, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  THE  IDLER*  117 

"I  am  the  bearer  of  a  message  which  I  am  command- 
ed to  hand  to  you  in  person,"  answered  Francois,  pro- 
ducing the  letter  which  Louvet  had  given  him  at  the 
fecret  conference. 

"I  dare  say  it's  of  no  importance,"  was  Barrere's 
testy  response ;  "so  you'll  please  excuse  me  for  declin- 
ing to  receive  it  just  now." 

Seeing  that  he  was  about  to  retire,  Frangois  re- 
solved to  prevent  him,  and  sprang  nimbly  up  the  stairs, 
calling  after  him : 

"Are  you  mad,  Citizen  Barrere,  to  treat  a  friend's 
messenger  like  this  ?  Come,  sir,  I  will  deliver  my  mes- 
sage, if  I  have  to  break  down  your  door  to  get  at  you." 

Thoroughly  frightened  by  these  resolute  words,  and 
by  the  naked  sword  in  the  stranger's  hand,  Barrere  was 
on  the  point  of  calling  his  servants  to  defend  him,  when 
a  sudden  change  in  the  young  man's  manner,  caused 
him  to  alter  his  mind,  and  to  inquire  more  closely  into 
the  nature  of  his  errand. 

"From  whom  do  you  come,  young  man?"  he  asked, 
as  he  extended  his  hand  for  the  letter. 

"You  will  learn  that  when  you  have  broken  this 
seal." 

And,  pointing  significantly  to  the  wafer  with  which 
it  was  stamped,  Frangois  surrendered  the  message. 

As  Barrere  was  now  thoroughly  convinced  that  it 
had  been  sent  him  by  some  person  of  importance,  h« 
beckoned  Frangois  to  accompany  him  to  his  chamber. 

On  entering  the  apartment,  Frangois  returned  his 
sword  into  its  hiding  place,  and  stretched  his  languid 
form  upon  a  sofa.  Meanwhile  his  host  drew  a  chair  to 


Il8  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

a  table,  and,  after  breaking  the  seal  from  the  message, 
spread  open  the  sheet  of  paper  and  read  the  following : 

"My  Dear  Barrere : 

"As  you  are  the  only  friend  of  mine  who  is  on  terms 
of  intimacy  with  Robespierre,  I  am  compelled  to  call 
upon  you  to  comply  with  the  request  I  now  make.  I 
want  you  to  give  a  bachelor  dinner  in  your  villa  at 
Clichy  three  days  after  receiving  this  message.  Give 
it  in  Robespierre's  honor,  and  be  sure  to  invite  all  the 
leaders  who  are  opposed  to  him  in  the  Convention. 
Robespierre,  out  of  friendship  for  you,  will  be  sure  to 
attend  the  gathering,  and  events  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance will  follow.  I  might  remind  you  of  the  obligations 
you  owe  me  for  past  benefits,  and  put  this  request  in 
the  nature  of  a  command ;  but  I  prefer  to  trust  to  your 
friendship.  You  can  rely  upon  me  to  protect  you,  no 
matter  how  this  affair  may  result.  You  will  oblige  me 
by  sending  an  answer  by  my  messenger. 

"JEAN  LOUVET." 

M.  Barrere  gasped  convulsively  while  perusing  these 
words,  and,  when  he  had  finished,  arose  from  the  table 
and  began  pacing  the  floor  in  great  agitation. 

"Merciful  heavens !"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  vehement 
gesture.  "Does  this  Louvet  wish  to  ruin  me?  Is  he 
trying  to  involve  me  in  a  conspiracy  ?" 

Frangois  turned  his  eyes  scornfully  upon  him  and 
observed : 

"You  can  trust  my  master  to  do  his  friends  no 
harm." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  THE  IDLER.  1 19 

Barrere  stopped  in  his  tracks  and  scrutinized  the 
messenger's  face  closely. 

"Who  told  you  that  I  am  this  traitor's  friend?"  he 
asked. 

Frangois  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  am  not  here  to  be  questioned,"  he  replied,  coolly, 
"but  to  receive  your  answer  to  my  master's  letter." 

His  effrontery  aroused  Barrere  to  sudden  anger. 

"So  this  Jean  Louvet — this  condemned  outlaw  is 
your  master,  eh  ?  I  thank  you,  young  man,  for  inform- 
ing me  of  the  fact  S" 

While  speaking,  he  backed  gradually  toward  the 
door  leading  into  the  hall,  and,  before  Frangois  became 
aware  of  his  intention,  darted  suddenly  through  it, 
slammed  it  shut  with  a  bang,  and  turned  the  key  quick- 
ly in  the  lock. 

Frangois  bounded  to  his  feet  with  a  roar  like  that  of 
a  wild  beast ;  but  ere  he  could  reach  the  door,  he  heard 
the  voice  of  his  captor  squeak  triumphantly  through 
the  keyhole : 

"Like  master,  like  man !  As  you've  had  the  audacity 
to  approach  me  with  a  message  from  an  outlav/ed 
traitor,  I  presume  you  are  an  enemy  of  the  Republic, 
and  will  keep  you  safely  in  my  trap,  until  I  can  summon 
the  gendarmes  to  take  you  off  to  prison." 

A  moment  afterward,  the  captive  heard  the  same 
voice  shouting  to  his  lackies : 

"Fetch  your  muskets,  my  brave  lads,  and  mount 
guard  over  this  villainous  traitor !'' 

This  command  was  immediately  obeyed,  and,  before 
Frangois  the  Idler  had  time  to  realize  his  situation,  two 


I2O  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

armed  retainers  of  Barrere's  household  had  taken  up 
their  station  in  the  hall  outside,  while  two  others  were 
promenading  the  graveled  path  that  ran  beneath  the 
windows  of  his  prison. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FACE  TO  FACE. 

SINCE  her  unsuccessful  interview  with  Robespierre, 
Louise  Vauban  had  remained  in  strict  seclusion,  in 
the  splendid  mansion  on  the  Rue  Saint  Honore,  pros- 
trated with  grief  at  the  terrible  fate  which  awaited  her 
beloved  father.  The  household  servants,  having  fled 
from  the  dwelling  with  the  instinct  which  prompts  rats 
to  desert  an  unseaworthy  ship,  her  faithful  maid, 
Marie,  was  now  her  sole  companion. 

To  the  casual  passer-by,  the  great  house  appeared  to 
be  deserted. 

The  shutters  of  the  front  windows  were  tightly 
closed,  and  the  steps,  railings  and  cornices  were  cov- 
ered with  dust.  For  the  two  heart-broken  women  were 
anxious  above  all  things  to  screen  their  misery  from  the 
inquisitive  gaze  of  outsiders. 

The  interior  of  the  mansion  presented  a  scene  of  dis- 
order and  desolation.  Nothing  had  been  removed,  or 
changed,  since  the  night  of  M.  Vauban's  arrest. 

The  floor  of  the  great  ballroom  was  covered  with  the 
faded  leaves  of  flowers.  Groups  of  palms  and  baskets 
of  withered  ferns  still  occupied  the  various  alcoves; 
while  the  dense  screen  of  plants,  that  had  formed  a  cur- 
tain round  the  platform  occupied  by  the  orchestra, 

[121] 


122  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

drooped  disconsolately,  and  extended  a  thousand 
parched  leaves  on  every  side  in  a  mute  appeal  for  water. 

The  reception  rooms  and  salons  exhibited  a  similar 
woe-begone  aspect,  and  the  broad  staircase,  leading  to 
the  banquet-hall  above,  was  littered  with  ribbons, 
favors  and  other  vain  nick-nacks  of  pleasure.  But  it 
was  not  until  you  entered  the  banquet-hall  itself  that 
the  blight  which  had  fallen  upon  the  Vauban  mansion 
could  be  fully  realized.  The  enormous  table,  which  oc- 
cupied the  middle  of  the  apartment,  still  groaned  be- 
neath the  weight  of  costly  plate  and  viands.  Slender 
glasses,  half-filled  with  the  choicest  wine,  stood  beside 
daintily-painted  dishes  containing  the  most  delicious 
edibles — speaking  eloquently  of  the  sudden  consterna- 
tion which  had  caused  the  unfortunate  Vauban's 
guests  to  flee  panic-stricken  from  their  places  at  his 
hospitable  board.  Nor  were  other  evidences  of  their 
terror  wanting ;  for,  here  and  there,  a  chair  was  over- 
turned, or  a  dish  lay  broken  on  the  floor. 

It  needed  but  the  flaming  inscription — "Mene! 
Menel  Tekel  Upharsin!" — to  flash  along  the  wall,  to 
recall  to  mind  Belshazzar's  impious  feast,  which  the  ap- 
pearance of  Daniel  the  Prophet  brought  to  so  tragic  a 
close. 

On  the  morning  that  witnessed  the  unfortunate  ex- 
ploits of  Andre,  Simon  and  Francois,  Louise  was  sit- 
ting in  her  bed-chamber,  propped  up  in  an  armchair, 
by  a  window,  gazing  blankly  down  upon  the  garden 
below,  like  one  stupefied  by  grief.  Marie  occupied  a 
stool  at  her  feet,  regarding  her  with  affectionate  solid- 


FACE  TO   FACE.  123 

tude,  while  bravely  endeavoring  to  inspire  her  with 
hope. 

"Do  not  give  way  so,  dear  heart !"  she  said,  pleading- 
ly, as  she  patted  the  limp  hand  of  her  mistress.  "You 
seem  to  have  quite  forgotten  that  gallant  young  man 
who  promised  to  befriend  your  good  father." 

"It  was  very  kind  of  him,  I'll  admit,"  answered 
Louise,  faintly. 

"Kind,  did  you  say?  It  was  more  than  that;  it  was 
brave  and  noble." 

Louise  sighed  gently,  and  a  momentary  flush  suf- 
fused her  countenance. 

"Yes,"  she  murmured,  "it  was  certainly  generous  of 
him  to  come  to  my  aid."  She  relapsed  into  silence  for 
a  few  moments,  and  then  resumed,  half  dreamily, 
"Why,  his  conduct  was  worthy  of  a  knight-errant. 
It  reminds  me  of  the  heroes  of  Chivalry." 

"I  know  nothing  about  knight-errants  and  the  sort 
of  heroes  you  speak  of,"  said  Marie  with  great  fervor ; 
"but  I  do  know  this : — that  young  stranger  is  the  brav- 
est man  in  France.  I  watched  him  keenly  while  he  was 
offering  to  aid  you,  dear  mistress,  and  I  know  he 
meant  all  that  he  said.  He  will  help  you,  you  may  de- 
pend upon  it." 

The  earnestness  of  her  manner  had  a  stimulating 
effect  upon  her  mistress;  for  she  now  bent  forward 
eagerly  and  asked : 

"Then  you  think  there  is  still  hope  for  my  father?" 

"I'll  tell  you  all  that  has  been  passing  in  my  mind 
since  I  first  saw  and  heard  the  young  stranger.  But 
will  you  promise  not  to  take  offense  at  what  I  say  ?" 


124  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"I'll  promise." 

"Then  listen!"  resumed  Marie,  gazing  steadily  into 
her  eyes.  "To  begin,  my  sweet  mistress,  you  must 
surely  know  that  you  are  very  beautiful.  Now  don't 
blush,  deary;  for  that  is  mere  coquetry.  Every  one 
acknowledges  that  you  are  not  only  beautiful,  but  gen- 
tle, good  and  charming.  In  short,  you  are  just  the 
kind  of  girl  to  make  men  love  you." 

"Love?  Did  you  say  love,  Marie?"  cried  Louise, 
with  a  bitter  laugh.  "Why,  it  is  a  foolish  delusion  to 
lure  young  girls  to  their  ruin."  Then,  suddenly 
changing  her  tone,  she  added  with  tragic  scorn,  "Have 
you  forgotten  the  night  of  the  ball  so  soon,  Marie?" 

The  maid  arose  from  her  stool,  and,  winding  her 
arms  affectionately  around  the  neck  of  her  lovely  mis- 
tress, whispered  gently : 

"My  beloved  Louise !  You  speak  of  love  so  bitterly, 
because  you  are  ignorant  of  its  divine,  self-sacrificing 
nature.  The  affection  you  have  hitherto  known  has 
been  that  you  have  given  your  father;  but  your  heart 
has  never  yet  been  touched  by  passion.  The  admirers, 
whom  you  have  considered  lovers,  are  all  selfish,  world- 
ly men,  who  have  adored  your  wealth  and  beauty, 
rather  than  your  soul.  That  they  failed  you  in  your 
need  is  nothing  to  excite  wonder,  or  to  fill  your  heart 
with  bitterness  against  true  lovers — " 

"Have  you  ever  seen  a  true  lover?"  interrupted 
Louise,  sarcastically. 

"Yes,"  returned  Marie,  softly,  "and  so  have  you." 

"What  nonsense !"  cried  her  mistress,  with  a  gesture 


FACE  TO   FACE.  12$ 

of  impatience;  adding,  "if  you  know  of  such  a  man, 
pray  name  him !" 

Marie  bent  gently  forward  and  whispered  in  her  ear : 

"The  man  who  dared  to  aid  you  is  a  true  lover." 

"Are  you  mad?"  asked  Louise,  blushing  suddenly. 
"Jean  Louvet  a  true  lover?" 

By  way  of  answer  to  these  queries,  the  artful  maid 
embraced  the  young  lady  more  ardently,  and  fairly 
smothered  her  in  a  shower  of  kisses.  While  this  dem- 
onstration lasted,  she  read  the  mind  of  her  beautiful 
mistress,  and,  seeing  that  she  seemed  disposed  to  listen 
further,  ventured  to  resume  more  boldly : 

"Yes,  this  champion  of  yours  is  in  love;  for  it  was 
that  which  prompted  him  to  help  you." 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  asked  Louise,  drawing 
back  in  confusion. 

"That  he  is  desperately,  madly  in  love ;  and  that  the 
person  he  worships  so  unselfishly  is  none  other  than 
my  adorable,  darling  mistress." 

And  again  Marie  overwhelmed  her  with  kisses. 

Although  the  maid's  declaration  surprised  her,  it 
was  hardly  a  revelation  to  Louise;  for  Jean  Louvet's 
generous  conduct  had  already  aroused  her  suspicion. 
Indeed,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  believe  that  one 
who  was  a  total  stranger  should  have  championed  her 
cause  from  motives  of  an  ordinary  nature. 

But,  now  that  Marie  had  confirmed  her  suspicions, 
she  began  to  reflect  more  seriously  on  the  risks  that 
this  noble  stranger  had  incurred  on  her  behalf.  True, 
he  had  assumed  them  voluntarily  ;  nevertheless  she  had 
encouraged  him  to  proceed,  and  felt  that  she  had, 


126  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

thereby,  become  a  partaker  in  the  responsibility  of  his 
undertaking. 

The  thought  that  there  was  at  least  one  man  who 
stood  ready  to  lay  down  his  life  to  insure  her  happiness 
was  encouraging  to  the  disconsolate  girl,  and  deter- 
mined her  to  battle  bravely  against  despair.  Jean 
Louvet  had  sworn  to  aid  her  in  saving  her  father  from 
the  guillotine,  and  had  said  that  he  possessed  resources 
which  the  greatest  men  might  envy.  In  recalling  their 
extraordinary  interview,  Louise  remembered  further 
how  she  had  been  inspfred  with  a  feeling  of  confidence 
by  the  stranger's  noble  countenance.  It  was  certain 
that  he  was  a  gentleman,  or  he  could  never  have  ap- 
proached her  with  such  delicacy,  offering  to  place  him- 
self at  her  disposal,  without  claiming  her  promised  re- 
ward. 

While  she  was  indulging  in  these  reflections,  she  be- 
held a  man  vault  lightly  over  the  fence  that  enclosed  the 
little  garden  in  the  rear,  and  glide  swiftly  toward  the 
house,  casting  furtive  glances  from  side  to  side  as  he 
advanced.  Although  he  was  attired  in  the  red  cap  and 
coarse  blouse  of  a  workingman,  there  was  something 
so  familiar  in  his  graceful  movements  that  her  sus- 
picions were  excited,  and,  calling  Marie  to  her  side, 
she  pointed  down  at  the  mysterious  intruder,  and 
asked, 

"Have  you  ever  seen  that  man  before  ?  It  strikes  me 
that  he  is  not  a  stranger." 

Marie  examined  the  man's  person  and  movements 
with  keen  attention.  Then,  catching  a  momentary 


FACE   TO   FACE.  I2/ 

glance  at  his  face  as  he  looked  upward,  she  cried  out 
in  great  excitement: 

"Why,  it's  Monsieur  Louvet,  as  I'm  an  honest  girl! 
He's  come  here  with  good  news,  God  bless  him !" 

And,  turning  quickly  toward  the  door,  she  ran  clat- 
tering down  the  stairs  to  accord  him  a  joyous  welcome. 

Louise  was  so  startled  by  the  girl's  abrupt  announce- 
ment that  she  became  of  a  sudden  weak,  and  was 
obliged  to  exert  herself  to  the  utmost  to  keep  from 
fainting. 

"Jean  Louvet !"  she  murmured  with  fluttering  heart. 
"What  good,  or  evil  tidings  could  have  brought  him 
here?" 

Presently  she  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  ascending 
the  stairs,  and  collected  all  her  faculties  for  the  ap- 
proaching interview.  In  a  few  moments  the  footsteps 
stopped  on  the  landing  outside ;  the  door  of  the  parlor 
adjoining  her  bed-chamber  slowly  opened;  and  Marie 
bade  Jean  Louvet  enter,  saying, 

"Be  seated,  monsieur!  I  will  tell  my  mistress  that 
you  are  here." 

An  instant  afterward,  the  maid  swept  smilingly  into 
the  bed-chamber,  and  announced  to  Mademoiselle 
Vauban  that  her  friend  was  in  the  parlor. 

"Has  anything  serious  happened?"  inquired  Louise, 
tremulously. 

"No,  deary,"  returned  Marie,  reassuringly.  "M. 
Louvet  wishes  to  consult  with  you,  nothing  more." 

Pale  and  quivering  with  emotion,  Louise  arose,  and 
walked  slowly  and  unsteadily  toward  the  apartment 
where  Jean  Louvet  was  awaitmg  her.  On  the  thresh- 


!28  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

old  of  the  door,  she  paused  for  a  moment,  to  gain 
greater  mastery  over  her  feelings;  then,  forcing  a 
smile  to  her  trembling  lips,  advanced  with  outstretched 
hand  toward  her  visitor. 

Perhaps  nothing  appeals  to  the  sensibilities  of  a  true 
man  so  irresistibly  as  the  spectacle  of  a  beautiful  wom- 
an in  distress.  Jean  Louvet  observed  the  pallor  of 
Louise  Vauban's  countenance,  the  lines  of  acute  suf- 
fering which  contracted  her  brows,  and  the  look  of 
despair  in  her  eyes.  He  would  gladly  have  borne  any 
torments  to  have  relieved  her  of  her  anguish;  but  he 
felt  utterly  powerless,  even  to  console  her. 

Oh,  if  he  could  have  clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  com- 
forted her  with  words  of  undying  affection!  If  he 
could,  only  for  one  brief  moment,  have  revealed  to  her 
the  celestial  passion  that  consumed  his  soul,  by  whis- 
pering the  words  which  men  have  learned  from  angels 
—"I  love  you !" 

Knowing  that  this  was  impossible,  he  merely  clasped 
the  hand  she  extended  to  him  with  a  slight  pressure, 
and  remarked  with  cold  politeness : 

"Mademoiselle  Vauban,  you  look  worn  and  ill.  You 
must  take  better  care  of  yourself." 

"Monsieur,"  she  answered,  smiling  upon  him  sadly, 
"give  me  back  my  father,  and  I  promise  to  recover  my 
health  and  looks  that  moment." 

She  sank  languidly  upon  a  divan  at  his  side,  and  re- 
sumed : 

"I  observe,  Monsieur  Louvet,  that  you  are  disguised. 
May  I  ask  the  reason?" 


FACE  TO   FACE.  129 

"Have  you  not  heard  of  yesterday's  proceedings  in 
the  Convention  ?"  he  asked. 

She  replied  in  the  negative. 

"Then  I  will  inform  you,"  he  continued,  in  that  low, 
musical  voice  which  he  invariably  employed  when  con- 
versing with  the  gentler  sex: 

"On  taking  my  seat  in  the  Convention  Hall,  yester- 
day morning,  I  was  convinced  that  the  majority  of 
Representatives  were  simply  waiting  for  some  bold 
man  to  denounce  and  accuse  Robespierre.  I  know  that 
he  has  many  enemies,  and  believed  that  they  would 
rise  up  and  support  such  a  motion,  and  that  the  tyrant 
would  be  overthrown  by  a  coup  d'  etat." 

"What  an  audacious  idea!"  exclaimed  the  girl. 

"True;  but  audacity  is  essential  in  some  instances," 
he  returned,  calmly ;  continuing,  "In  fact,  Mademoiselle 
Vauban,  I  ventured  to  denounce  and  accuse  Robes- 
pierre myself,  hoping  that  the  majority  of  Represen- 
tatives would  support  me.  I  endeavored  to  accomplish 
his  downfall  in  the  National  Convention  yesterday 
morning;  but  not  a  member  stood  forth  to  uphold  me." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Louise,  her  eyes  flashing  with 
enthusiasm.  "Do  you  mean  to  say  you  defied  Robes- 
pierre single-handed?" 

"I  acknowledge  the  folly,"  replied  Louvet. 

"And  no  one  came  forward  to  your  aid?" 

"Not  a  single  man." 

Louise  bent  forward  impulsively,  and  seized  his 
hands,  saying : 

"And  you  did  this  on  behalf  of  my  father?." 


I3O  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"Such  was  my  design,"  replied  Louvet,  in  tones  of 
bitter  disappointment. 

The  girl  raised  his  hands  reverently  to  her  lips. 

"Monsieur,"  she  murmured,  sweetly,  "you  are  a 
brave  and  noble  man.  You  have  done  all  that  you  can 
for  me  and  my  dear  father,  and  I  implore  you  to  aban- 
don us  to  our  fate.  It  would  be  a  crime  for  me  to  urge 
you  to  further  efforts;  for  I  now  know  why  you  go 
about  disguised.  Having  defied  Robespierre,  the  Con- 
vention has  declared  you  an  outlaw — am  I  not  right?" 

"Yes,  mademoiselle,"  replied  Louvet  with  emotion. 
"Nevertheless,  this  very  disguise  will  be  put  to  good 
use.  As  to  abandoning  your  father  to  Robespierre's 
vengeance,  it  would  be  impossible.  I  have  already 
started  a  plot  for  his  release,  and  it  is  too  late  to  with- 
draw now.  I  have  come  here,  not  to  speak  of  this  mat- 
ter, but  to  ask  you  to  give  me  your  solemn  word  that 
you  will  remain  here  in  seclusion  until  everything  is 
over.  Will  you  grant  me  this  request?" 

"I  will,"  answered  Louise  solemnly. 

A  short  interval  of  silence  followed,  during  which 
Louise  leaned  forward,  with  an  elbow  resting  upon  her 
knee,  and  a  delicate,  white  hand  supporting  her  rounded 
chin,  in  an  attitude  of  profound  reverie.  Entranced  by 
the  charming  pensiveness  expressed  in  her  countenance, 
Jean  Louvet  remained  mute  and  motionless,  with 
bowed  head  and  clasped  hands,  offering  up  as  an  in- 
cense to  this  idol  of  his  heart  all  the  sublime,  adoring, 
self-sacrificing  emotions  that  filled  it. 

"She  is  communing  with  her  God,"  he  reflected,  de- 
voutly. "I  will  not  disturb  her." 


FACE   TO   FACE.  13! 

By  this  it  will  be  seen  that  he  was,  even  as  Marie 
had  described  him,  a  true  lover.  Nevertheless,  like  all 
other  true  lovers,  he  was  attributing  to  the  object  of 
his  adoration,  higher  and  nobler  meditations  than 
those  which  really  occupied  her  mind.  For  Louise, 
far  from  communing  with  her  Creator,  was  in  reality 
reflecting  about  him. 

"I  wonder  why  it  is  that  this  strange  young  man 
exerts  such  a  wondrous  influence  over  my  will?"  she 
mused.  "He  merely  asks  me  to  grant  a  request,  and 
I  consent  without  hesitation.  Is  it  because  he  has 
proved  himself  worthy  of  my  confidence  ?  No ;  for  I 
trusted  him  from  the  first.  Is  it  that  he  is  handsome, 
gentle  and  courteous  ?  No ;  for  Juvenal  is  far  hand- 
somer than  this  stranger;  while  D'Espernay  is  the 
gentlest  of  men,  and  Villeneuve  is  gallantry  personi- 
fied. What  then  can  be  the  secret  of  his  power?  It 
must  be  that  he  is  so  daring,  chivalrous  and  unselfish, 
that  he  is  willing  to  sacrifice  his  very  life  for  my  sake." 

Satisfied  that  she  had  solved  the  problem  of  his  in- 
fluence over  her,  Louise  turned  suddenly  to  Jean  Lou- 
vet  and  said : 

"You  have  requested  me  to  remain  here  in  seclusion 
until  you  have  accomplished  your  designs — may  I  ask 
the  reason?" 

The  unexpectedness  of  her  query  caused  the  young 
man  to  awake  from  his  ecstacy  with  a  start ;  but,  re- 
covering himself  quickly,  he  replied : 

"The  reason  I  made  such  a  singular  request,  mad- 
emoiselle, is  because  of  my  solicitude  on  your  behalf. 
I  believe  you  will  not  be  molested  so  long  as  you  re- 


132  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

main  quiet.  Being  assured  of  your  safety,  I  can  act 
boldly  on  your  father's  behalf,  and  concentrate  all  my 
faculties  upon  the  object  we  desire." 

Both  were  so  intent  upon  the  subject  they  were  dis- 
cussing that  they  failed  to  hear  the  creaking  of  foot- 
steps on  the  stairs. 

"But,"  said  Louise  anxiously,  "it  may  be  necessary 
for  me  to  communicate  with  you  in  the  meanwhile. 
Supposing,  for  example,  that  I  should  hear  something 
about  my  father  that  would  be  essential  to  the  success 
of  your  designs.  To  what  place  could  I  despatch  a 
secret  message?" 

"If  you'll  promise  not  to  resort  to  such  a  measure, 
unless  the  conditions  are  extremely  urgent,  I  will 
reveal  a  place  where  I  can  always  be  found.  And,"  he 
added,  with  the  utmost  confidence,  "You  must  be  sure 
of  the  trustworthiness  of  your  messenger." 

While  speaking,  he  drew  a  slip  of  paper  from  his 
pocket,  and,  going  over  to  a  little  desk  in  a  corner, 
dipped  a  quill  in  an  ink-horn  and  wrote  down  rapidly, 

"Maison  Rousseau" 

"Rue  " 

"Faubourg  Saint  Antoine." 

Then,  after  drying  the  ink  with  fine  sand,  he  re- 
turne/i  to  the  girl,  and  delivered  the  paper  into  her 
possession. 

At  that  moment  a  few  nervous  taps  sounded  upon 
the  door  communicating  with  the  landing. 

Supposing  that  they  were  made  by  Marie — for  it 


HE      DREW      HIMSELF      UP      TO     HIS     FULL     HEIGHT,    AND 
CONFRONTED      THE      MERCILESS    DESPOT     FACE     TO 

FACE.— Page  133. 


FACE  TO  FACE.  133 

should  be  rerrernbered  that  neither  she,  nor  Louvet 
had  heard  the  footsteps  that,  but  a  moment  before, 
creaked  upon  the  stairs — Louise  folded  the  slip  into  a 
tiny  square,  and,  thrusting  it  for  safe-keeping  into  her 
bosom,  called  out  very  graciously : 

"Come  in !" 

At  this  invitation  the  person  outside  moved  the  door 
back  slowly  on  its  hinges,  crossed  the  threshold,  and, 
advancing  toward  them  hat  in  hand,  saluted  Mad- 
emoiselle Vauban  with  an  obsequious  bow. 

"Pardon  me  i"  he  said,  smiling  upon  her  with  great 
affability ;  then,  turning  to  Jean  Louvet,  whom  he  did 
not  recognize  in  his  disguise,  he  added  in  tones  of 
biting  irony,  "I  had  no  intention  of  interrupting  such 
a  delightful  tete-a-tete,  I  assure  you." 

Louise  sank  back  upon  the  divan  speechless  with 
terror;  for  the  slender,  elegantly  attired  person  who 
stood  before  her  was  Robespierre. 

As  for  Jean  Louvet,  he  sprang  quickly  from  his 
chair,  stepped  resolutely  between  the  intruder  and  the 
frightened  girl,  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
confronted  the  merciless  despot  face  to  face. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR. 

FOR  a  brief  moment  Robespierre's  face  expressed 
the  utmost  astonishment  at  such  singular  behaviour 
on  the  part  of  the  supposed  workingman;  but,  when 
his  keen  perception  had  penetrated  Jean  Louvet's  dis- 
guise, he  glared  fiercely  back  at  him  without  attempt- 
ing to  dissemble  the  passionate  hatred  that  filled  his 
heart. 

Louvet  returned  his  ferocious,  threatening  glance 
with  a  look  of  supreme  defiance.  Indeed,  while  the 
tyrant's  eyes  blinked  and  emitted  yellow,  scintillating 
sparks,  those  of  his  opponent  never  quivered  for  an 
instant,  but  poured  a  deluge  of  terrible  light  into  the 
dark  recesses  of  Robespierre's  perverted  soul.  Each 
realized  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  his  mortal 
enemy,  and  that  there  could  be  no  reconciliation  be- 
tween them  this  side  the  grave. 

Robespierre  was  the  first  to  break  the  frightful 
spell. 

Suddenly  changing  his  aspect,  he  said  with  crafty 
politeness : 

"So  it  is  you,  Citizen  Louvet?  Pray  forgive  me 
my  impoliteness,  which  you  may  attribute  to  your 
disguise,  I  assure  youl" 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  135 

"Say  rather  to  your  tyranny,"  returned  Louvet  de- 
fiantly. "For  it  was  you  who  suggested  the  motion 
by  which  I  was  declared  an  outlaw." 

''Oh,  yes,  I  remember  now!"  said  the  despot  with 
assumed  indifference;  adding,  "I  believe  it  was  you 
who  demanded  my  accusation — was  it  not  ?" 

"Yes,  it  was  I  who  denounced  you  as  a  tyrant !"  cried 
Louvet  with  fierce  vehemence.  "And  let  me  warn 
you,  cruel  despot,  that  others  will  soon  follow  my 
example !" 

Robespierre  trembled  slightly  at  this  prophecy; 
then,  motioning  toward  Mademoiselle  Vauban  with 
hypocritical  solicitude,  he  said  mildly : 

"Pray  contain  yourself,  Citizen  Louvet!  If  you  are 
angry  with  me,  reserve  your  rage  for  another  occasion. 
Remember  that  we  are  in  the  presence  of  a  fraii 
woman !" 

He  could  not  have  employed  a  more  effectual  means 
of  bringing  the  young  man  back  to  cool  reason,  than 
by  appealing  to  his  sense  of  respect  toward  the  gentler 
sex.  The  thought  that  he  had  given  way  to  his  indig- 
nation in  the  presence  of  Louise  Vauban  filled  him  with 
such  shame  that  he  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 
He  was  about  to  apologize  for  his  rudeness,  when  the 
girl  reassured  him  with  a  look,  and,  turning  to  Robes- 
pierre, remarked  scornfully : 

"Reproof  on  uncourteous  behaviour  comes  with  but 
a  poor  grace  from  you,  M.  Robespierre ;  for,  if  I  re- 
member rightly,  you  are  not  overcourteous  yourself. 
It  was  not  so  very  long  ago  that  a  lady  of  your  ac- 
quaintance condescended  to  visit  your  lodgings  on  an 


136  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

errand  of  mercy  and  love.  How  did  you  treat  her,  M. 
Robespierre?  If  my  memory  is  correct,  you  ignored 
her  appeals  to  your  mercy,  and,  with  unparalleled 
rudeness,  turned  abruptly  on  your  heel  and  left  the 
room.  Is  it  not  so,  M.  Robespierre?" 

This  sudden  revelation  of  his  conduct  overwhelmed 
the  artful  hypocrite  with  confusion,  which  he  endeav- 
ored to  hide  under  the  cloak  of  his  zeal  for  the  Re- 
public. 

"If  I  acted  as  rudely  as  you  say  I  did,"  he  replied 
with  assumed  ardor,  "it  was  because  my  duty  to  the 
Republic  required  it." 

"And  does  your  duty  to  the  Republic  require  you 
to  intrude  upon  my  privacy?" 

"I  have  come  here  as  a  friend,"  answered  Robes- 
pierre, throwing  a  significant  glance  toward  his  enemy, 
and  then  relapsing  into  silence. 

Realizing  that  Jean  Louvet  stood  in  imminent  dan- 
ger of  arrest,  and  that,  if  he  delayed  his  departure 
much  longer,  escape  would  be  impossible,  Louise  re- 
solved to  urge  him  to  leave  the  house  at  once.  So, 
advancing  toward  him  haughtily,  she  made  him  a  stiff 
curtsy,  artfully  contrived  to  present  her  back  to  Robes- 
pierre, and,  casting  upon  him  a  passionate  glance, 
which  gave  the  lie  to  her  chilling  words  and  manner, 
said  with  assumed  indifference : 

"I  am  sorry,  Citizen  Louvet,  that  I  cannot  do  any- 
thing to  help  you.  I  pardon  your  coming  here  in  dis- 
guise; but  I  command  you  never  to  do  so  again. 
Even  now  I  fear  you  have  compromised  my  reputation 
as  a  true  daughter  of  the  Republic/' 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  137 

This  studied  speech  was  followed  by  a  brief  collo- 
quy of  glances.  From  Jean  Louvet's  eloquent  eyes 
there  flashed  the  anxious  question : 

"Are  you  safe  alone  with  this  man?" 

To  which  the  radiant  orbs  of  the  girl  made  answer : 

"Perfectly." 

Apparently  satisfied  with  this  mute  reply,  Jean  Lou- 
vet  put  on  an  air  of  disappointment,  sighed  deeply, 
returned  the  lady's  curtsy  with  a  cool  bow,  and  quickly 
left  the  room. 

It  may  be  asked — Why  did  Robespierre  allow  his 
mortal  enemy  to  escape  him,  when  he  had  him  within 
his  grasp? 

The  reply  to  this  question  can  be  given  in  a  very 
few  words.  Jean  Louvet  was  an  athlete ;  Robespierre 
was  weak  and  slender.  Their  meeting  took  place  in 
the  rear  of  a  great  mansion  whose  only  inhabitants 
were  two  frail  women.  It  is  apparent,  therefore,  that 
Robespierre  was  in  a  position  of  far  greater  peril  than 
his  enemy. 

If  he  had  attempted  to  seize  Jean  Louvet,  the  latter 
would  undoubtedly  have  overpowered  him.  If  he  had 
cried  aloud  for  assistance,  Jean  Louvet  would  have 
throttled  him  on  the  instant.  Moreover,  it  would  have 
been  impossible  for  him  to  have  withdrawn  quietly 
from  the  house,  to  bring  citizens,  or  gendarmes,  back 
with  him,  without  allowing  his  enemy  an  opportunity 
to  escape  during  his  absence.  Confronted  with  these 
dilemmas,  the  despot  adopted  the  most  prudent  plan 
of  awaiting  a  safer  chance  to  ensnare  Jean  Louvet. 

When  the   latter  had  been   gone   some   minutes, 


138  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Louise  turned  sharply  toward  Robespierre  and  said 
haughtily : 

"Well,  sir,  I  am  ready  to  receive  your  apologies." 

''My  apologies  ?" 

"Yes,  for  intruding  into  my  presence,  or  rather 
breaking  like  a  thief  into  this  house." 

"As  to  intruding  into  your  apartments,  I  will  ex- 
plain my  reasons  later.  As  regards  your  charge  of 
forcible  entrance,  I  will  deny  it  most  emphatically 
now." 

Louise  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  curled  her  lip  in 
disdain. 

"Nevertheless  all  the  doors  and  windows  were  fast- 
ened," she  said  contemptuously. 

Robespierre  dipped  into  his  pocket,  and  drew  forth 
a  great  brass  key,  which  he  exhibited  to  the  girl  with 
an  air  of  insolent  triumph. 

"Do  you  recognize  this  ?"  he  asked. 

Louise  did  not  deign  to  reply;  whereupon  Robes- 
pierre continued  in  tones  expressive  of  sorrow : 

"That  key  belongs  to  your  father,  who  gave  it  to 
me  yesterday,  with  the  request  that  I  would  take  good 
care  of  his  daughter  after  his  death.  You  see  he  knows 
I  am  still  his  friend,  although  you  scorn  to  believe  it, 
my  girl.  And  yet  I  see  no  reason  for  your  doubting 
my  sincerity." 

While  he  was  delivering  this  explanation,  Louise 
glanced  furtively  at  the  key,  and  saw  that  it  was  the 
one  her  father  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  about  his 
person.  It  fitted  the  huge  brass  lock  of  a  private  door 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  139 

to  the  mansion,  which  was  used  by  M.  Vauban  when 
returning  from  a  late  sitting  of  the  Convention. 

"Well,  I  will  forgive  the  manner  of  your  entrance," 
she  said,  somewhat  mollified  by  this  evidence  of  his 
truthfulness;  adding,  "but  you  have  not  yet  explained 
the  errand  that  prompted  this  visit." 

"If  I  should  tell  you  it  was  an  unselfish  one,  you 
might  doubt  me  again,"  said  Robespierre. 

"Not  if  you  speak  the  truth,"  she  answered  frankly. 

"Very  well  then,  I  will  begin." 

Saying  which,  he  drew  a  chair  near  the  divan  to 
which  she  had  returned,  and,  regardless  of  her  evident 
mistrust,  began  his  story. 

"You  blame  me,  Citizeness  Vauban,  for  prompting 
your  father's  arrest.  Well,  allowing  that  I  did,  was  I 
not  right?" 

"Right?"  echoed  the  girl  drawing  back  from  him 
with  a  shudder  of  horror.  "It  was  the  act  of  either  a 
lunatic,  or  a  monster!" 

"Alas!"  exclaimed  the  despot  in  tones  of  genuine 
feeling,  "must  I  always  be  misjudged  for  my  most  un- 
selfish acts  ?" 

"Unselfish?"  cried  Louise.  "Why  you  must  cer- 
tainly have  lost  your  reason,  to  condemn  your  friend 
to  death,  and  call  it  unselfish." 

Robespierre  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast,  and 
moaned  like  one  in  torture;  but  this  expression  of 
weakness  lasted  but  a  moment. 

Suddenly  he  arose  from  his  chair,  and  uplifted  both 
arms  toward  the  ceiling,  crying  aloud  in  a  frenzy  of 
enthusiasm : 


140  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"I  call  upon  God  to  attest  the  sincerity  of  my  mo- 
tives !" 

The  next  instant,  he  folded  his  arms  across  his 
chest,  and  fixed  upon  the  terrified  girl  a  glance  that 
fairly  blazed  with  fanaticism. 

"Unselfish !  Yes  I  repeat  that  I  am  unselfish !"  he 
exclaimed,  "For  is  it  not  an  act  of  sublime  self-abnega- 
tion to  sacrifice  one's  dearest  friends  to  the  cause  of 
humanity?  I  have  sacrificed  the  witty  and  charming 
Desmoulins,  and  the  lion-hearted  Danton,  because 
they  stood  in  the  way  of  our  great  Republic.  And  I 
have  now  imprisoned  my  most  beloved  friend,  Vau- 
ban,  because  his  wealth  and  prodigality  proclaimed 
him  an  aristocrat  at  heart.  Nor  is  that  all,"  he  added, 
completely  carried  away  by  his  egotistic  zeal :  "if  it  were 
for  the  good  of  the  Republic  that  I,  myself,  should  be 
removed,  most  willingly,  gladly  would  I  mount  the 
steps  of  the  scaffold  and  bare,  with  my  own  hands, 
my  neck  for  the  guillotine." 

During  this  impassioned  declamation,  Louise  re- 
garded him  with  a  half  frightened,  half  doubtful  look, 
such  as  she  might  have  bestowed  on  some  curious,  yet 
appalling,  monster  from  another  world.  When  he  had 
finished,  however,  she  smiled  up  at  him  with  the  con- 
fidence of  one  who  has  at  last  solved  a  difficult  prob- 
lem, and  said  with  exquisite  irony : 

"It  is  apparent,  M.  Robespierre,  that  you  consider 
yourself  and  the  Republic  of  France  as  identical." 

Perhaps  the  sublime  egotist  was  abashed  at  her 
daring  criticism,  or  it  might  have  been  that  he  had 
exhausted  his  powers  of  oratory  in  one  fiery  outburst ; 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  141 

for  certain  it  is  that  his  ardor  suddenly  cooled,  and 
that  he  resumed  his  seat  and  composure  at  the  same 
time. 

When  he  had  fully  recovered  his  breath,  he  assumed 
an  affable  smile,  and  turned  the  conversation  into  a 
more  peaceful  channel. 

"Pardon  me,  Citizeness !"  he  said,  "for  allowing 
my  enthusiasm  to  draw  me  away  from  explaining  the 
reasons  for  paying  you  this  visit.  However,  I  will 
make  amends  for  my  forgetfulness  by  revealing  them 
now." 

Louise  observed  that  the  lurid  light  of  fanaticism 
had  subsided  in  his  eyes,  and  that  their  pupils  had 
gradually  contracted  to  mere  peepholes  through  which 
craft,  suspicion  and  falsehood  peered  out  by  turns. 

''This  wily  man  intends  to  entrap  me,"  she  reflected 
with  the  intuitive  mistrust  which  so  many  women 
possess.  "Well,"  she  mused  further,  "it  may  be  wise 
to  learn  his  designs,  so  I  will  pretend  to  be  duped  by 
his  cunning  and  lead  him  on  to  betray  them.'* 

Robespierre  resumed : — 

"My  chief  reason  for  paying  you  this  visit,"  said  he, 
"is  to  conspire  with  you  to  save  your  father  from  the 
guillotine.  You  cannot  understand  how  dearly  I  love 
him,  and  how  anxiously  I  have  been  plotting  to  save 
his  head."  , 

"You  are  very  kind,"  murmured  Louise,  pretending 
to  be  deeply  grateful,  "and  if  I  can  help  you  to  accom- 
plish your  noble  purpose  I  will  be  very  happy." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  in  that  way,"  returned 


142  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Robespierre  in  tones  of  satisfaction;  "for  I  now  feel 
certain  that  your  father  can  be  saved." 

Louise  expressed  the  liveliest  joy  at  this  assurance, 
and,  falling  upon  her  knees  at  his  feet,  cried  excitedly : 

"May  God  bless  you  for  those  words !  Oh,  I  knew 
you  would  not  let  my  father  perish !  But  tell  me, 
what  must  I  do  to  save  him  ?" 

Believing  that  it  was  now  time  to  broach  his  real 
purpose,  the  cunning  despot  placed  his  long  hands 
upon  her  luxuriant  tresses,  and  smoothed  them  with 
all  the  tenderness  of  a  father.  Then  he  began  to  unveil 
his  treacherous  design  with  an  audacity  that  was  won- 
derfully direct. 

"To  begin,"  said  he,  "I  would  like  you  to  explain 
how  it  happened  that  you  were  harboring  an  outlaw 
in  your  house,  at  the  time  I  came  hither  to  visit  you  ?" 

Louise  laughed  gaily. 

"Oh,  it  came  about  through  no  fault  of  mine,  you 
may  be  sure,"  she  replied.  "M.  Louvet  came  here 
uninvited  and  in  disguise;  and,  as  I  knew  him  to  be 
a  Representative  of  the  people,  I  very  naturally  ad- 
mitted him  when  he  told  me  that  he  was  in  distress." 

"Then  you  did  not  know  he  had  been  outlawed  ?" 

"Not  then." 

"Nor  that  he  is  planning  to  effect  my  ruin  ?" 

"Why,  such  an  idea  is  preposterous !" 

And  Louise  broke  out  into  another  peal  of  laughter. 

"You  have  no  especial  interest  in  Citizen  Louvet's 
welfare?" 

"How  could  I?"  replied  Louise,  with  difficulty  re- 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  143 

straining  her  emotions.  "Why  M.  Louvet  is  no  more 
than  an  acquaintance." 

"Nevertheless  he  came  here  for  protection  and  as- 
sistance!" exclaimed  Robespierre,  his  brow  suddenly 
darkening  with  suspicion. 

Noticing  this  evidence  of  mistrust,  Louise  raised  her 
eyes  to  the  tyrant's  face  and  asked  innocently : 

"But  why  do  you  ask  these  questions,  M.  Robes- 
pierre? What  has  this  Louvet  to  do  with  my  father?" 

Robespierre  bent  close  to  her  and  whispered  fiercely : 

"Everything;  for  either  one,  or  the  other  must 
perish." 

"Merciful  God !"  exclaimed  the  girl  in  mortal  terror. 
"What  do  you  mean  by  those  words?" 

The  tyrant's  countenance  assumed  a  cruel,  sinister 
expression. 

"In  affairs  of  this  kind,"  he  replied  coolly,  "it  is 
generally  wise  to  convey  one's  meaning  by  inference. 
But  it  is  evident  that  with  you  I  must  make  an  ex- 
ception." 

"Listen !"  he  continued,  fixing  his  snaky  eyes  upon 
her.  "I  have  said  that  either  this  outlaw,  or  your 
father  must  inevitably  die.  It  is  the  old  story  repeated 
of  Jesus  and  Barrabas.  It  is  an  alternative  between  an 
outlaw  and  a  noble  man.  I  appoint- you  to  choose 
between  them.  Come,  which  shall  it  be?  Whose  life 
shall  be  spared?  Shall  if  be  that  of  the  outlaw,  Jean 
Louvet?  Or  that  of  the  good  Republican,  Alphonse 
Vauban?" 

While  he  was  giving  utterance  to  these  terrible 
words,  Louise  suddenly  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  re- 


144  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

treated  step  by  step  to  the  opposite  end  of  the  parlor. 
There  she  stood,  with  both  hands  clutching  the  back 
of  a  chair,  and  her  head  thrown  back,  so  that  the 
astonishment  and  horror  which  blazed  in  her  eyes 
threw  a  ghastly  light  upon  her  pale,  set  features. 

"Have  you  come  here  to  scoff  at  my  misery?"  she 
muttered  faintly. 

"On  the  contrary  I  have  come  here  to  relieve  it," 
answered  Robespierre;  and  he  added,  with  a  hoarse 
and  jeering  laugh :  "Gome,  Citizeness  Vauban,  I  am 
not  to  be  deceived.  That  you  know  the  secret  hiding 
place  of  this  Louvet  is  apparent.  Tell  me  where  I  can 
find  him,  and  I  will  release  your  father  from  prison; 
otherwise" — and  here  he  snapped  his  fingers  viciously 
— "I  will  see  that  your  father  is  guillotined." 

Having  revealed  his  whole  plan  to  the  girl,  he  as- 
sumed his  habitual  melancholy  expression,  and  began 
pacing  the  room  with  rapid,  nervous  strides. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  cry  of  inexpressible  anguish ; 
then  a  heart-broken  sigh,  a  plaintive  repetition  of  the 
words — "What  baseness  !  What 'treachery!  What  in- 
conceivable villainy !" — and  finally  a  question  ad- 
dressed to  him  in  a  voice  that  shook  his  very  soul. 

"So  you  actually  believe  me  capable  of  betraying  an 
honest,  noble  friend  into  your  power?" 

He  was  silent. 

The  same  voice  rang  out  in  quivering  tones : 

"No,  not  to  save  my  father!  Not  to  save  myself! 
Not  even  to  escape  the  pains  of  hell  would  I  betray 
Jean  Louvet!" 

These  words  were  quickly  followed  by  the  rustling 


A  WOMAN'S  SENSE  OF  HONOR.  145 

of  silken  skirts,  and,  ere  Robespierre  could  recover 
from  his  chagrin,  Louise  Vauban  appeared  suddenly 
before  him. 

With  the  gesture  of  a  queen,  she  pointed  imperiously 
toward  the  door,  and,  transfixing  him  with  the  light- 
ning of  her  eyes, 

"Depart,  vile  wretch !"  she  cried  defiantly. 

With  a  look  of  intense  hatred,  the  merciless  despot 
obeyed  her  in  silence,  nor  did  he  recover  from  his 
humiliation  until  he  reached  the  open  air. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

ANDRE  DEPARTS   ON   A   MISSION. 

LOUISE  VAUBAN'S  vigorous  denunciation  of  Robes- 
pierre was  followed  by  several  important  conse- 
quences. 

When  the  tyrant  entered  her  parlor,  he  had  no 
knowledge  that  she  was  even  an  acquaintance  of  Jean 
Louvet.  For  the  real  object  of  his  visit  was  to  obtain 
from  her  certain  desirable  information,  by  pretending 
a  deep  interest  in  her  father's  fate,  expressing  a  hypo- 
critical sympathy  with  her  misfortune,  and  offering  to 
do  all  in  his  power  to  save  his  friend,  Vauban.  Hav- 
ing thus  regained  her  entire  confidence,  he  had  no 
doubt  that  she  would  fall  a  victim  to  his  treachery,  and 
reply  to  his  artful  questionings  out  of  pure  gratitude 
and  simple  trust. 

But,  on  beholding  her  in  secret  conference  with  the 
very  man  who  had  denounced  him  before  the  Con- 
vention, this  design  was  immediately  abandoned.  His 
suspicions  were  aroused  to  a  degree  bordering  on  cer- 
tainty; and,  with  the  keen  insight  that  characterized 
his  intellect,  he  divined  the  nature  of  their  relationship 
at  once. 

"So  is  was  for  love  of  Louise  Vauban,"  he  reasoned, 
"that  this  daring  young  man  ventured  to  inflame  the 
H6] 


ANDK&  DEPARTS  ON  A   MISSION.  147 

Representatives  against  me.  True  he  was  defeated  in 
his  first  attempt;  yet  it  is  evident  that  Mademoiselle 
will  persuade  him  to  try  again." 

Now,  as  Robespierre's  friends  in  the  Convention 
had  described  to  him  all  that  had  occurred  there,  on 
the  morning  that  Representative  Louvet  had  de- 
manded his  accusation,  the  tyrant  was  fully  aware  that 
he  had  passed  through  a  crisis  which  it  would  be  per- 
ilous to  disregard.  Moreover,  the  bold  St.  Just  had 
warned  him  that  his  enemies  in  the  Convention  were 
increasing,  and  that  a  repetition  of  Jean  Louvet's  act 
must  be  averted  by  prompt  and  resolute  action.  So 
the  tyrant,  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  regarded  Louvet 
as  a  dangerous  enemy,  who  must  be  captured  and 
executed  at  once  to  insure  his  own  safety. 

On  discovering  his  friendship  with  Louise,  there- 
fore, he  immediately  conceived  the  design  of  making 
her  the  instrument  of  securing  the  person  of  this 
enemy. 

"If  I  offer  to  release  her  father,"  he  thought,  "in 
exchange  for  this  lawless  traitor,  she  will  doubtless 
surrender  him,  with  all  his  associates,  into  my  hands." 

But,  like  many  other  well-devised  plans,  there  was  a 
flaw  in  that  of  Robespierre,  which,  but  for  the 
treachery  of  his  own  nature,  he  might  easily  have 
detected  from  the  first.  In  making  his  calculations, 
he  had  neglected  to  include  two  things — a  high  sense 
of  honor,  and  a  spirit  of  true  heroism  to  sustain  it. 

Having  failed  to  corrupt  the  noble  girl,  he  quickly 
returned  to  his  lodgings,  where  he  discovered  his 
trusted  barber  in  the  act  of  ransacking  the  contents  of 


148  THE  MAN   WHO   DARED. 

his  wardrobe.    His  rage  on  beholding  this  spectacle 
has  already  been  described. 


Andre  the  Barber  waited  calmly,  until  Robespierre 
had  restored  the  paper  to  his  pocket,  and  then,  re- 
marked good-humoredly: 

"It  is  apparent  that  my  dear  patron  has  lost  his  tem- 
per this  morning,  or  he  would  not  speak  so  harshly 
to  his  devoted  Andre." 

Robespierre  regarded  him  with  astonishment. 

"What !"  he  exclaimed,  furiously,  "am  I  to  be  defied 
and  insulted  by  my  very  barber?" 

"I  insult  you  ?    I  defy  you  ?" 

And  Andre  bowed  his  head  upon  his  breast  de- 
jectedly, as  if  he  had  received  a  mortal  injury. 

Completely  bewildered  by  his  behavior,  Robespierre 
began  to  think  it  possible  that  he  had  really  wronged 
him.  Yet  he  was  resolved  to  probe  the  affair  to  the 
bottom,  as  recent  events  had  thoroughly  aroused  his 
suspicions. 

"Don't  stand  there  like  a  whipped  school-boy,  you 
impudent  rascal !"  he  cried ;  "but  lift  your  head,  and 
answer  truthfully  to  my  questions !" 

Andre  the  Barber  raised  his  face  slowly,  and  then 
it  could  be  seen  that  two  crocodile  tears  were  cours- 
ing down  his  cheeks. 

"What  were  you  doing  in  that  wardrobe?"  asked 
Robespierre,  pointing  toward  the  great  mahogany 
case  that  contained  his  most  cherished  treasures. 

"I  was  admiring  the  beautiful  garments  that  adorn 


ANDRE   DEPARTS   ON   A   MISSION.  149 

your  sacred  person,"  and  Andre  succeeded  in  forcing 
two  additional  tears  from  his  sorrowful  eyes. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  have 
given  a  more  fortunate  answer  to  the  despot's  query; 
for  it  had  struck  directly  upon  the  most  vulnerable 
spot  in  his  armor.  Robespierre  continued  in  a  milder 
tone : 

"But  what  was  your  motive  in  searching  my  pock- 
ets, may  I  ask?" 

"Curiosity,"  stammered  the  barber  meekly.  "Idle 
curiosity,  nothing  more." 

"And  was  your  inquisitiveness  rewarded  ?" 

"In  one  way,  yes !  In  another,  no !" 

"Explain  yourself!" 

"I  discovered  that  you  are  as  neat  as  you  are  noble ; 
for  there  was  not  so  much  as  a  speck  of  dust  in  your 
pockets.  But,"  added  Andre  with  a  look  of  disap- 
pointment, "I  greatly  regret  that  I  could  find  nothing 
to  carry  away  as  a  memento  of  your  friendship." 

Robespierre's  brow  was  beginning  to  brighten ;  yet 
he  determined  to  ask  one  question  more.  Again  draw- 
ing the  paper,  containing  the  names  of  his  enemies, 
from  his  pocket,  he  held  it  close  to  Andre's  eyes,  and 
inquired  with  a  penetrating  glance : 

"But  had  you  found  this  list — would  you  have  taken 
it  as  a  memento  ?" 

"I  would  have  left  it  undisturbed/'  cried  Andre; 
adding  with  pretended  indignation,  "Such  a  question 
is  unworthy  of  you,  Citizen  Robespierre.  It  implies 
a  doubt  of  my  integrity." 


THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"And  what  if  I  do  doubt  it?"  returned  the  tyrant, 
with  a  sneer. 

This  time  the  artful  Andre  threw  down  the  winning 
card. 

"It  would  convince  me  that  you  are  the  biggest  fool 
in  France,  and  not  the  great  apostle  of  liberty  I  have 
thought  you,"  he  cried,  boldly. 

"You  speak  in  enigmas,"  said  Robespierre. 

"Yet  they  are  easily  solved,"  retorted  Andre.  "Let 
me  explain :  Would  you  not  be  a  colossal  fool  to  allow 
a  man,  whose  honesty  you  doubted,  to  place  a  razor 
on  your  throat?  Would  you  not  be  utterly  unworthy 
of  the  confidence  of  the  nation,  if,  threatened  on  all 
sides  as  you  are,  you  invited  assassination  by  exposing 
your  precious  life  in  such  a  foolhardy  manner?  You 
know  as  well  as  I,  Citizen  Robespierre,  that  the  future 
of  the  Republic  is  in  your  keeping,  and  I  would  deem 
you  the  greatest  of  criminals,  if  you  did  not  take  every 
precaution  to  preserve  your  health  and  life  for  the 
welfare  of  the  brave  people  who  adore  you." 

This  short,  but  eloquent  oration  was  interrupted  by 
a  profound  sigh  that  seemed  to  struggle  up  from  the 
depths  of  Andre's  heart ;  then,  averting  his  face  from 
Robespierre's,  and  feigning  to  brush  the  tears  from  his 
eyes,  the  artful  barber  resumed,  in  a  voice  half-choked 
with  emotion : 

"Alas!  my  noble  patron  doubts  my  honor,  and 
naught  is  left  me  but  to  resign  from  his  service." 

Even  Robespierre  himself  was  no  match  for  such 
consummate  hypocrisy.  In  an  instant  all  his  faith  and 


DEPARTS  ON  A  MISSION.          i$t 

trust  in  Andre  returned,  and,  clasping  him  in  an  ardent 
embrace, 

"What!  leave  my  service,  Andre?  Never,  my  dear 
friend !"  he  cried.  "If  I  have  offended  you,  I  ask 
forgiveness ;  for  I  trust  you  implicitly." 

A  reconciliation  between  hypocrites!  What  a  sub- 
ject for  Moliere ! 

Nevertheless,  it  did  not  result  as  happily  as  it  prom- 
ised. For,  notwithstanding  his  return  of  confidence, 
Robespierre  was  far  too  prudent  to  permit  his  barber 
to  again  have  the  freedom  of  his  lodgings.  On  the 
contrary,  he  found  an  occasion  that  very  day  to  dis- 
patch him  on  an  important  errand  far  from  Paris, 
which,  in  view  of  recent  circumstances,  poor  Andre 
was  obliged  to  undertake,  although  it  prevented  him 
from  attending  the  midnight  conference  appointed  by 
his  Chief. 

After  he  had  departed  on  his  mission,  Robespierre 
stole  quietly  from  his  lodgings,  and  passed  several 
hours  in  wandering  aimlessly  through  the  suburban 
fields.  But,  although  his  footsteps  were  erratic,  his 
mind  moved  with  marvelous  precision  toward  the  ob- 
ject of  accomplishing  the  arrest  and  execution  of  Jean 
Louvet. 

Having  been  foiled  in  .his  interview  with  Made- 
moiselle Vauban,  his  thoughts  were  next  directed  to- 
ward the  accomplices  who  had  rescued  his  enemy  from 
the  mob  in  St.  Antoine.  He  now  remembered  that  it  was 
only  on  the  preceding  evening  that  he  had  himself 
ordered  the  arrest  and  immediate  arraignment  of  these 
two  men  before  the  bar  of  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal. 


1 52  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

But  what  good  could  result  from  their  execution? 
It  would  mean  two  suspects  removed  from  his  path; 
but  could  they  not  serve  his  purposes  in  a  better  way, 
if  spared?  If  permitted  their  present  freedom,  it  was 
probable  that  they  would  communicate  with  their 
Chief,  and  thus  lead  his  spies  to  the  place  where  he 
lay  concealed. 

With  such  thoughts  still  agitating  his  mind,  Robes- 
pierre finally  left  off  wandering,  and  returned  quickly 
to  his  lodgings  on  the  Rue  Saint  Honore. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

SIMON   EXPERIENCES    A   SURPRISE. 

STILL  pressing  Madame  Fontenai's  letter  close  to  his 
beating  heart,  Simon  the  Jailer  accompanied  the  gen- 
darmes to  the  dread  chamber  of  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal.  As  he  was  a  man  of  great  moral  courage, 
he  walked  between  them  fearlessly,  thinking  far  more 
of  the  lady's  letter  than  of  himself. 

"Is  not  this  an  extraordinary  proceeding?"  he  in- 
quired of  one  of  his  guardians.  "Why,  I  have  been 
accustomed  to  see  prisoners  consigned  to  the  Houses 
of  Arrest  before  being  tried." 

"Aye,"  was  the  surly  response;  "but  yours  is  no 
ordinary  case,  Citizen.  You  stand  accused  of  having 
rescued  an  outlaw  from  justice,  you  must  remember." 

"Then  why  not  to  the  guillotine  at  once?"  cried 
Simon  the  Jailer  defiantly.  "Why  this  mockery  of 
justice,  in  forejudging  my  case  at  all  ?" 

"You  will  be  granted  the  privilege  of  defense,  when 
you  appear  at  the  bar  of  the  Tribunal." 

Saying  which  the  gendarmes  bade  him  be  silent 
and  hurried  him  on. 

The  spectacle  of  a  municipal  jailer  in  the  custody 
of  two  officers  of  the  law  was  sufficiently  novel  to  ex- 
cite curiosity  in  many  of  the  people,  and,  before  they 


154  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

had  reached  the  great  building,  where  the  sanguinary 
Tribunal  was  then  in  session,  they  found  it  difficult  to 
push  their  way  through  the  howling  mob. 

"You're  good  at  handling  the  canaille,  you  rascal !" 
said  one  of  the  gendarmes,  laughing  coarsely.    "Come, 
let  us  see  what  you  can  do  to  help  us  out  of  this 
pressure !" 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  asked  Simon,  quickly. 

The  gendarme  turned  suddenly  pale. 

"Stir  them  up  with  one  word  and  you're  a  dead 
man !"  he  whispered,  fiercely. 

A  short  time  afterwards,  they  entered  the  gloomy 
chamber  of  the  Tribunal,  and  Simon  was  conducted 
to  a  bench  to  await  the  calling  of  his  case.  As  the 
terrible  Fouquier-Tinville  was  in  a  rare  mood  for 
business,  however,  his  patience  was  by  no  means  ex- 
hausted before  he  was  summoned  to  the  bar. 

"Your  name?"  asked  St.  Just,  who  was  presiding. 

"I  am  known  as  Simon  the  Jailer,"  replied  the  pris- 
oner. 

"Your  age?" 

"Twenty-eight  years  and  a  month  to-morrow." 

"Your  present  occupation?" 

"A  jailer  in  the  Luxembourg  Prison." 

"You  may  be  seated,  while  the  Public  Accuser  pre- 
sents his  charges." 

Whereupon,  the  two  gendarmes,  who  still  had  him 
in  their  custody,  seized  him  rudely  by  the  shoulders, 
and  hurried  him  back  to  the  bench. 

Almost  at  the  same  instant,  Tinville  stepped  quickly 
forward,  and  read  a  short  accusation,  charging  him 


SIMON  EXPERIENCES  A  SURPRISE.  155 

with  aiding  an  outlaw  to  escape.  When  he  had 
finished  this  preliminary,  he  suddenly  burst  out 
into  a  violent  harangue,  demanding  the  immediate 
conviction  and  condemnation  of  the  accused. 

"The  prisoner  may  come  forward!"  exclaimed  St. 
Just,  when  Tinville  had  concluded  his  short  argument. 

Simon  the  Jailer  arose  and  advanced  to  the  bar. 

"Have  you  anything  to  say  in  refutation  of  these 
charges  ?" 

"Nothing;  since  I  am  already  forejudged,"  replied 
the  prisoner. 

The  Judges,  constituting  the  Tribunal,  were  in  the 
act  of  consulting  together,  according  to  the  per- 
functory methods  that  characterized  their  proceedings, 
when  a  messenger  ran  breathlessly  into  the  chamber, 
approached  them  hurriedly,  and  handed  a  letter  to 
St.  Just. 

"It  is  from  Robespierre,  and  must  be  read  at  once," 
he  whispered,  excitedly. 

At  this,  St.  Just  broke  open  the  seal ;  ran  his  eyes 
over  the  words  of  the  message ;  after  which  he  passed 
it  to  his  associates  to  be  read  in  turn.  A  brief  con- 
sultation followed.  Then  St.  Just  turned  quickly 
toward  the  prisoner,  and  pronounced  his  sentence  in 
the  following  remarkable  words : 

"After  considering  your  case  very  carefully,  my 
good  citizen,  we  have  concluded  to  grant  you  an  ac- 
quittal ;  for  the  charges  against  you  are  sustained  by 
no  evidences  of  your  guilt  in  this  affair."  Then,  turn- 
ing to  the  gendarmes,  "You  may  conduct  the  accused 


1 56  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

to  the  Luxembourg  and  set  him  free,"  he  added 
peremptorily. 

At  this  unexpected  termination  to  his  adventure, 
Simon  the  Jailer  was  dumbfounded,  nor  was  it  until 
he  had  reached  the  Luxembourg  that  he  was  enlight- 
ened as  to  its  real  significance.  Happening  to  again 
meet  Madame  Fontenai,  he  told  her  his  entire  story; 
whereupon  she  warned  him  urgently  that  he  must 
maintain  from  henceforth  the  greatest  vigilance 
against  spies. 

That  he  was  deeply  impressed  by  her  advice  will  be 
seen  by  his  subsequent  conduct. 


M.  Tallien  was  hastening  from  the  Convention  Hall 
that  evening,  on  his  way  to  keep  an  engagement  with 
a  friend,  when  he  was  accosted  by  a  man  attired  in  the 
garb  of  a  common  laborer. 

"Have  I  the  honor  of  addressing  Representative 
Tallien  ?"  he  asked,  respectfully  lifting  his  cap. 

"Yes,  I  am  Citizen  Tallien,"  was  the  answer.  "What 
do  you  desire  of  me  ?" 

"You  have  a  dear  friend  in  the  Luxembourg  Prison, 
I  believe  ?"  ventured  the  laborer  timidly. 

M.  Tallien  started  and  turned  pale. 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  he  inquired,  anxiously. 

The  man  lowered  his  voice  to  a  whisper  and  replied 
quickly : 

"M.  Tallien,  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  you  from 
Madame  Fontenai.  She  assured  me  that  you  are  her 


IT      WAS      AN      ELOQUENT      APPEAL      TO     HIM     TO     SAVE 

HER. — Page  157. 


SIMON   EXPERIENCES   A   SURPRISE.  157 

dearest  friend,  and  so  I  consented  to  risk  my  life  to 
bring  it  to  you." 

"But  who  are  you?"  asked  Tallien,  suspiciously. 

"My  name  is  Simon,  and  I  am  employed  as  a  jailer 
in  the  Luxembourg." 

Apparently  satisfied  with  this  explanation,  Tallien 
exclaimed,  eagerly : 

"The  letter !    The  letter !  Give  it  me !" 

Simon  the  Jailer  drew  a  sealed  packet  from  his 
blouse,  and  slipped  it  into  M.  Tallien's  hand. 
Then  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  rapidly  away. 

When  he  had  disappeared  from  view,  M.  Tallien 
turned  aside  into  a  neighboring  wine  shop,  and,  taking 
a  seat  in  a  secluded  corner,  proceeded  to  read  Madame 
Fontenai's  letter. 

It  was  an  eloquent  appeal  to  him  to  save  her.  Her 
entreaties  for  herself  were  accompanied  by  expressions 
of  the  most  ardent  solicitude  on  his  behalf.  She  called 
upon  him  to  save  his  own  head  from  the  guillotine. 

She  asserted  that  she  had  positive  information  that 
he  was  doomed.  His  fiery  audacity  had  offended 
Robespierre.  Moreover,  he  was  a  Dantonist,  against 
whom  lay  many  grudges.  Fawning  upon  the  tyrant 
would  have  no  effect  now.  If  Tallien  and  his  friends, 
Bourdon,  Freron,  Barras  and  the  others,  did  not 
throw  off  their  lethargy  immediately,  they  would  all 
certainly  perish.* 

"Every  word  she  has  written  is  true,"  muttered  Tal- 
lien, thrusting  the  missive  deep  down  in  his  pocket 

*  Carlyle's  French  Revolution,  Vol.  Ill, 


158  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"I  have  had  words  of  ill-omen,  so  has  Bourdon,  while 
Robespierre  hates  Freron  and  Barras." 

And  he  hastened  from  the  wine  shop  with  a  terror 
in  his  heart  greater  than  that  which  had  hitherto  in- 
spired him. 

Meanwhile,  the  workingman  was  cautiously  making 
his  way  toward  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

FRANCOIS  RESORTS  TO  STRATEGY. 

ON  finding  himself  a  prisoner  in  M.  Barrere's  cham- 
ber, Frangois  the  Idler  elevated  his  eyebrows,  puck- 
ered up  his  lips,  and  emitted  a  low,  prolonged  whistle 
indicative  of  surprise.  Then  he  ran  quickly  to  the 
door  and  rattled  it  with  great  violence. 

"'Tis  useless  to  resist,  monsieur,"  cried  one  of  his 
guards  through  the  key-hole ;  "for,  even  if  you  succeed 
in  forcing  the  door,  you  would  simply  be  killed  for 
your  pains." 

"Which  would  mean  the  guillotine  for  all  of  you !" 
was  Frangois'  defiant  rejoinder. 

And,  giving  the  door  an  additional  rattle,  he  turned 
about  and  strode  boldly  toward  the  windows. 

On  reaching  the  one  to  the  right,  he  tore  aside  the 
curtains,  unloosened  the  fastenings  of  the  sash,  and 
swung  it  wide  open  on  its  hinges.  At  he  same  moment 
a  warning  voice  called  up  to  him  from  below, 

"Stand  back,  or  we'll  shoot  you  dead,  monsieur!" 

Frangois  threw  a  hasty  glance  in  the  direction  of 
his  threatener,  and  beheld  two  armed  men,  standing 
within  close  range,  covering  him  with  the  muzzles  of 
their  muskets,  Realizing  now  that  escape  by  force  was 


l6o  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

impossible,  he  saluted  the  men  derisively,  and  shouted 
back : 

"I  did  not  intend  to  alarm  you,  good  citizens !  I  had 
no  idea  of  escaping;  but  merely  opened  the  window 
to  admit  the  air." 

With  these  words,  he  withdrew  from  the  opening, 
and  began  pacing  the  chamber,  deep  in  thought.  Whib 
pondering  on  some  means  of  regaining  his  liberty,  he 
chanced  to  glance  casually  upon  a  table. 

Suddenly  he  came  to  a  dead  stop ;  gazed  fixedly  at 
some  object  on  the  table;  then,  darting  eagerly  for- 
ward, and  snatching  it  up  in  his  trembling  hands, 

"Mon  Dieu,  it  is  the  Chief's  letter!"  he  cried,  tri- 
umphantly. 

For  a  brief  moment  he  hesitated,  debating  in  his 
mind  whether  he  was  warranted  by  his  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances to  read  it ;  then,  having  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  would  be  no  breach  of  honor  to  do  so, 
he  sank  into  an  armchair  and  perused  it  from  begin- 
ning to  end. 

Being  as  shrewd  as  he  was  bold,  Francois  recog- 
nized at  a  glance  that  Jean  Louvet  held  some  secret 
power  over  Barrere.  One  sentence  of  the  epistle  in 
particular  contained  a  world  of  mysterious  meaning, 
and  Fran9ois  vainly  endeavored  to  penetrate  its  sig- 
nificance. It  was  this : 

"/  might  remind  you  of  the  obligations  you  owe  ine 
for  past  benefits,  and  put  this  request  in  the  nature  of 
a  command;  but  I  prefer  to  trust  to  your  friendship" 

Having  read  this  passage  for  perhaps  the  twentieth 


FRANCOIS   RESORTS   TO   STRATEGY.  l6l 

time,  Frangois  contracted  his  brows  and  reflected 
shrewdly  in  this  wise: 

"The  Chief  would  never  have  written  these  words, 
unless  he  had  this  purse-proud  upstart  at  his  mercy; 
therefore  would  I  not  be  justified  in  pretending  to 
know  their  secret,  and  frightening  Barrere  into  sub- 
mission ?" 

"At  least,"  he  reflected  further,  "it  is  a  stratagem 
worth  attempting,  and  may  succeed  if  carried  off  with 
an  air  of  audacity." 

So,  he  again  approached  the  door,  and  shouted  au- 
thoritatively to  the  guards  outside,  "Fetch  M.  Barrere 
hither !  I  am  weary  of  awaiting  his  pleasure." 

"But  my  master  has  no  desire  for  an  interview," 
came  back  the  insolent  reply.  "He  is  amusing  himself 
in  watching  the  road  for  the  coming  of  the  gen- 
darmes." 

"Do  you  love  your  master?"  roared  the  prisoner; 
"or  would  it  please  you  to  see  him  guillotined?" 

Before  the  lackies  could  reply,  M.  Barrere  himself 
reappeared  upon  the  scene,  crying,  angrily : 

"What  means  this  shouting,  rascals?  I'll  have  no 
more  of  it!" 

Recognizing  his  voice,  Francois  shouted  boldly : 

"So  you  hare  seen  fit  to  return,  my  high  and  mighty 
aristocrat  ?" 

"Silence !"  exclaimed  Barrere,  savagely. 

"What !"  cried  Francois  in  amazement,  "and  permit 
you  to  contrive  your  own  ruin?  Never,  while  I  pos- 
sess a  knowledge  of  Jean  Louvet's  past  benefits  to 
you,  monsieur!" 


l62  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

The  startled  Barrere  being  utterly  unable  to  reply 
to  this,  Frangois  pressed  his  advantage  still  further. 

"My  master  placed  confidence  in  your  friendship," 
he  went  on;  "but,  alas!  you  have  forgotten  all  you 
owe  him." 

Then,  in  order  to  cap  his  stratagem  with  a  fitting 
climax,  Frangois  the  Idler  raised  his  voice  to  its  high- 
est pitch,  and  made  the  house  tremble  with  his  threats. 

"But  an  end  to  all  courtesy !"  he  thundered.  "This 
man  is  incapable  of  gratitude!  Therefore  away  with 
all  pretense  of  friendship,  and  resort  to  extremities  at 
once !" 

Pausing  for  a  moment  to  give  emphasis  to  his 
words,  Frangois  roared  out : 

"Harken,  Barrere!  In  the  name  of  Jean  Louvet, 
whom  I  serve,  I  command  you,  on  peril  of  your  life, 
to  comply  with  his  request!" 

These  menacing  words,  uttered  so  imperatively, 
filled  the  heart  of  M.  Barrere  with  consternation. 

"Can  it  be  possible,"  he  thought  fearfully,  "that  this 
stranger  knows  my  secret?" 

For  he  was  not  aware  that  the  prisoner  had  just  read 
Louvet's  letter,  which  he  had  carelessly  left  in  his 
chamber,  and  could  put  no  other  construction  upon 
his  words.  At  first,  therefore,  he  was  dreadfully  fright- 
ened ;  but  presently  the  remembrance  that  Jean  Louvet 
was  now  a  condemned  outlaw,  renewed  his  courage 
and  complacency  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  found  voice 
to  reply  insolently : 

"In  the  name  of  your  master  indeed,  poor  fool !  Why 
Jean  Louvet  is  an  outlaw  and  a  beggar," 


FRANgOIS   RESORTS  TO   STRATEGY.  163 

"Say  rather  'poor  fool'  to  yourself !"  laughed  Fran- 

is,  "for  despising  the  power  of  one,  whom  the  Con- 
vention outlawed  through  abject  fear,  and  before 
whom  even  the  great  Robespierre  trembles.  As  re- 
gards such  a  poor  creature  as  yourself,  Barrere,  he  has 
but  to  raise  his  little  finger,  and  you  perish !" 

"You  exaggerate,  monsieur,"  returned  Barrere  less 
confidently. 

"Then   I'll  speak  out  and   you'll   understand   my 


meaning 


At  this,  Barrere  became  so  thoroughly  convinced 
that  the  prisoner  knew  his  secret,  that  he  fell  to 
trembling  more  violently  than  ever. 

"If  you  wish  to  explain,  good  citizen,"  he  answered 
meekly,  "pray  allow  me  to  unlock  the  door  and  enter !" 

Fran9ois  growled  a  reluctant  consent;  whereupon 
Barrere  unlocked  the  door,  and  crept  cautiously  into 
the  apartment  to  confer  with  him. 

Frangois  the  Idler,  who  was  reclining  complacently 
in  a  chair,  motioned  his  visitor  to  take  a  seat  beside 
him;  and,  when  the  latter  had  complied,  he  turned 
upon  him  fiercely,  and,  assuming  a  knowing  look, 
asked  suddenly : 

"Are  you  anxious  for  me  to  explain?  Shall  I  re- 
count all  the  benefits  you  have  received  from  Jean 
Louvet,  the  man  whom  you  imagine  to  be  a  beggar?" 

"Is  it  true  that  I  called  him  a  beggar?"  asked 
Barrere. 

"Yes,  and  an  outlaw  as  well,"  cried  Francois,  with  a 
threatening  scowl ;  adding  contemptuously,  "but  what 
more  could  be  expected  from  such  a  base  ingrate  ?" 


164  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

"Alas,  monsieur!"  exclaimed  Barrere,  completely 
deceived  by  Francois's  strategem.  "I  see  you  know 
my  secret,  and  will  save  you  from  reminding  me  that 
your  master,  Jean  Louvet,  saved  my  neck  from  the 
guillotine.  I  had  entered  into  a  conspiracy,  which  it 
is  unnecessary  to  explain  now,  and  would  certainly 
have  perished  but  for  his  assistance.  All  my  friends 
had  deserted  me,  I  was  neither  rich  nor  influential ; 
but  your  mysterious  master  befriended  me  by  means 
of  a  secret  and  extraordinary  power.  So,  if  I  doubted 
his  ability  now  to  protect  me  in  this  affair,  I  beg  you 
to  forgive  me  for  my  baseness,  and  to  accept  my  most 
humble  apology." 

Francois  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes. 

"Then  you  will  give  this  bachelor  dinner  in  Robes- 
pierre's honor?" 

"Not  only  will  I  give  it,"  replied  Barrere  with 
enthusiasm,  "but  I  will  place  Jean  Louvet  in  charge  of 
every  detail." 

Francois  arose  from  his  chair,  and  said  grandly. 

"You  have  saved  yourself  from  ruin  by  your  grat- 
itude." 

Having  thus  succeeded  in  his  errand,  he  took 
Barrere's  arm,  and  they  both  emerged  from  the  cham- 
ber walking  side  by  side. 

Frangois  restrained  his  joy  until  he  had  passed  be- 
yond sight  of  the  villa ;  but  then  he  indulged  his  emo- 
tions in  repeated  outbursts  of  laughter. 

"If  I  keep  improving  in  strategy  at  this  rate,"  he 
reflected,  "I'll  soon  be  a  match  for  the  Chief,  who 


FRANCOIS   RESORTS   TO   STRATEGY.  165 

knows  more  about  the  game  of  politics  than  any  dip- 
lomatist in  Europe. 

As  by  this  time  night  was  approaching,  he  quickened 
his  pace  to  a  brisk  walk,  which  he  kept  up  until  he 
approached  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine.  But,  as  he  en- 
tered the  tortuous  lanes  and  byways  of  this  gloomy 
quarter,  he  slackened  his  gait  and  crept  stealthily 
toward  the  dismal  wine-shop  he  frequented. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  CONSPIRATORS  REPORT  TO  THEIR  CHIEF 

SHORTLY  before  midnight,  on  the  same  evening,  two 
men  might  have  been  seen  moving  cautiously  along  a 
narrow  alley,  with  the  secret  air  of  bravos  having  some 
villainous  business  in  hand. 

One  was  following  the  other  at  a  distance  of  five  or 
six  paces,  stopping  when  he  stopped,  and  advancing 
when  he  advanced,  without  increasing  or  diminishing 
the  space  between  them. 

The  man  in  front  was  attired  in  the  red  cap  and 
dingy  blouse  of  a  workingman ;  the  one  who  followed 
was  decked  out  in  all  the  finery  of  a  dandy  of  the  pe- 
riod. The  workingman  cast  many  a  furtive  glance  over 
his  shoulder  as  he  proceeded,  apparently  on  the  look- 
out for  skulking  spies,  or  watchful  gendarmes.  The 
dandy,  however,  kept  his  eyes  fixed  straight  before 
him,  and  swung  a  walking  stick  carelessly  in  his  hand 
as  he  advanced. 

After  making  their  way  in  this  suspicious  manner 
for  some  distance,  the  workingman  turned  quickly 
into  a  little  lane,  and,  after  penetrating  it  until  he  came 
to  a  walled  garden,  vaulted  lightly  over  the  barrier  into 
the  inclosure,  and  crept  rapidly  on  hands  and  knees  to 
a  concealed  door  in  the  rear  of  a  pretentious  mansion. 
[166] . 


THE  CONSPIRATORS  REPORT  TO  THEIR  CHIEF.    167 

He  had  barely  time  to  rap  a  summons  on  the  oaken 
panels,  when  tne  dandy  sprang  nimbly  into  the  garden, 
and  followed  close  on  his  trail  to  the  secret  door. 

In  the  meantime  the  workingman  had  been  admitted 
to  the  mansion,  and  his  steps  were  distinctly  audible, 
as  he  ascended  a  stairway  in  the  interior. 

Having  knocked  like  his  predecessor  for  admittance, 
the  dandy  was  in  his  turn  permitted  to  enter  the  door- 
way, and,  a  moment  afterwards,  the  light  tapping  of 
his  dainty  heels  announced  that  he  also  was  ascending 
the  stairway. 

These  nocturnal  prowlers  were  none  other  than  two 
of  Louvet's  agents,  returning  to  the  Maison  Rousseau 
in  obedience  to  his  commands.  Indeed,  so  prompt 
were  they  in  keeping  their  appointment  that,  ere  the 
last  echo  of  their  footfalls  had  died  away  upon  the 
stairs,  the  clock  of  a  neighboring  tower  struck  the 
hour  of  midnight. 

"You  are  prompt  in  keeping  your  appointment," 
said  Louvet,  as  Simon  the  Jailer  entered  the  chamber 
of  conference. 

And  a  moment  afterwards,  he  added : 

"And  you  also  are  prompt,  Francois,"  as  the  young 
dandy  made  his  appearance. 

A  number  of  their  fellow  agents,  who  had  arrived 
before  them,  were  occupying  chairs  opposite  Jean 
Louvet's  table,  conversing  in  low,  eager  tones,  while 
awaiting  the  stroke  of  the  gavel  to  announce  that  the 
secret  session  had  begun.  The  two  new  arrivals 
immediately  joined  them,  but  did  not  participate  in 
the  whispered  discourse. 


l68  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Ten  minutes — twenty  minutes — half  an  hour  passed 
by,  and  yet  the  gavel  did  not  sound  its  call. 

Meanwhile  Jean  Louvet's  resolute  face  became  more 
anxious  and  expectant  each  minute.  He  threw  fre- 
quent glances  toward  the  door,  and,  at  every  trivial 
sound  that  disturbed  the  silence  of  the  venerable  man- 
sion, bent  eagerly  forward  in  an  attitude  of  attentive 
listening. 

"Why  does  the  Chief  postpone  the  hour  of  confer- 
ence?" asked  Fran9ois  of  his  comrade  Simon. 

The  Jailer  elevated  his  brows  and  shoulders  in  that 
eloquent  gesture  which  signifies  "Don't  ask  me;  for 
I  am  as  much  in  the  dark  as  you,  my  friend !" 

A  short  time  afterward,  the  conspirator  who  had 
charge  of  the  secret  door,  entered  the  apartment  quiet- 
ly, and  handed  Jean  Louvet  a  sealed  note.  The  Chief 
glanced  at  the  address  calmly ;  but,  on  recognizing  the 
peculiarities  of  the  handwriting,  changed  color,  mut- 
tered angrily,  and  tore  the  missive  open  with  trem- 
bling fingers. 

It  could  be  seen  that  an  expression  of  alarm  passed 
over  his  face,  as  he  hurriedly  read  its  contents.  But 
a  moment  later,  he  regained  his  composure,  and,  tak- 
ing up  the  gavel,  rapped  with  it  sharply  upon  the  table, 
with  the  words : 

"Attention,  messieurs!  Attention,  mesdames!  The 
meeting  is  called  to  order,  and  we  will  proceed  to  bus- 
iness at  once." 

Immediately  all  conversation  ceased,  and  every  eye 
was  fixed  upon  the  venerable  Dr.  Narbonne,  who, 
in  his  capacity  of  secretary,  arose  from  his  place  beside 


THE  CONSPIRATORS  REPORT  TO  THEIR  CHIEF.    169 

Jean  Louvet,  and  read  from  his  book  of  minutes  the 
proceedings  of  the  previous  meeting.  On  his  resuming 
his  seat,  the  Chief  proceeded  with  the  usual  order  of 
business,  until  he  finally  reached  the  call  for  the 
reports  of  the  political  agents  under  his  command. 
After  several  of  both  sexes  had  reported  progress  in 
the  business  intrusted  to  them,  Jean  Louvet  beckoned 
Simon  the  Jailer  to  approach  his  table ;  for  the  mission 
upon  which  this  conspirator  had  been  sent  was  of  a 
particular  and  secret  nature. 

"Well,"  asked  Louvet,  as  Simon  bent  low  across  the 
table,  "what  news?  Have  you  done  anything  as  yet?" 

"Madame  Fontenai  wrote  the  letter  you  prompted, 
and  I  delivered  it  to  M.  Tallien  this  evening." 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  Louvet,  with  a  pleased 
smile ;  adding,  "Have  you  anything  else  to  report  ?" 

At  this  Simon  the  Jailer  bent  closer  toward  his 
Chief,  and  hurriedly  related  the  story  of  his  arrest, 
trial  and  acquittal. 

"On  what  charge  were  you  apprehended?"  asked 
Louvet. 

"I  was  accused  of  rescuing  the  outlawed  Represen- 
tative, Jean  Louvet,  from  the  fury  of  the  mob." 

"Then  how  came  you  to  be  acquitted?" 

"I  believe  it  was  through  Robespierre's  interfer- 
ence." 

"Indeed  ?"  asked  Louvet,  in  amazement. 

Then  he  relapsed  into  thought,  from  which  he  quick- 
ly aroused  himself  to  repeat  Madame  Fontenai's 
shrewd  warning  to  the  Jailer,  to  beware  of  skulking 
spies. 


I/O  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

When  Simon  the  Jailer  had  returned  to  his  seat, 
Louvet  called  Frangois  the  Idler  to  draw  near. 

"And  what  have  you  to  report?"  he  inquired  anx- 
iously. 

"That  M.  Barrere  has  not  only  consented  to  give 
^he  banquet  you  suggested;  but  is  desirous  of  surren- 
dering the  arrangements,  in  all  their  details,  into  your 
hands." 

Jean  Louvet  could  hardly  restrain  his  astonishment. 

"Can  it  be  possible,"  he  asked  eagerly,  "that  such  a 
conservative  man  complied  with  the  request  of  an 
outlaw  so  generously?" 

Frangois  regarded  his  Chief  with  a  curious  smile. 

"Ah,  thereby  hangs  a  tale !"  he  whispered  signifi- 
cantly ;  and,  bending  closer  to  Jean  Louvet,  gave  him 
a  highly-colored  narrative  of  his  adventures. 

The  reports  of  the  agents  having  been  received,  the 
Chief  of  the  conspirators  dismissed  the  meeting,  and 
withdrew  with  Dr.  Narbonne  into  the  latter's  study. 
There  he  produced  the  letter  the  door-keeper  had 
handed  him,  and  read  it  aloud  to  his  wise  friend  and 
counselor.  It  ran  as  follows : 

"Most  honored  Chief : — 

"I  have  followed  your  instructions  and  placed  my 
life  at  hazard,  in  attempting  to  get  possession  of  the 
list  you  require.  So  far  I  have  failed ;  but  I  have  at 
least  discovered  where  it  can  be  found,  and  will  con- 
tinue my  efforts  to  procure  it.  I  was  unable  to  attend 
the  conference  to-night  for  this  reason :  My  patron  has 
sent  me  on  a  private  mission,  far  from  Paris,  which, 


THE  CONSPIRATORS  REPORT  TO  THEIR  CHIEF.    I?! 

under  the  circumstances,  I  was  compelled  to  under- 
take. In  three  days,  however,  I  will  return  from  my 
journey,  and  will  then  probably  succeed  in  procuring 
the  paper  you  desire. 

"Andre  the  Barber." 

"Well,"  asked  Dr.  Narbonne,  when  he  had  finished, 
"I  suppose  that  means  a  postponement  of  your  plans  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  replied  Louvet,  deliberately,  "It 
means  that  we  must  proceed  with  them  with  increased 
vigor." 

"But  the  list,  my  dear  master,"  protested  the  cau- 
tious old  gentleman.  "I  was  under  the  impression 
that  it  was  essential  to  your  success." 

Louvet  arose  from  his  chair  with  a  gesture  of  im- 
patience. 

"It  is  too  late  to  think  of  that  now,"  he  cried  des- 
perately, "the  game  has  already  begun,  and  the  least 
delay  would  prove  fatal.  We  must  play  our  cards  just 
as  we  hold  them,  and  not  wait  for  another  deal.  Do 
you  know,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice  almost  to  a 
whisper,  and  looking  into  the  doctor's  face  with  an 
expression  of  intense  anxiety — "Do  you  know,"  said 
he,  "that  I  met  Robespierre  face  to  face  not  later  than 
yesterday?" 

The  Doctor  gaped  up  at  him  in  amazement. 

"Yes,"  continued  Louvet,  "and  in  the  presence  of 
Mademoiselle  Vauban.  He  cast  upon  me  a  look  of 
intense  hatred,  and  I  could  read  his  heart  so  well,  that 
I  realized  at  once  he  is  about  to  destroy  everyone  who 
stands  in  the  way  of  his  ambition  with  one  compre- 


172  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED.    ' 

hensive  blow.  That  blow  may  be  expected  to  fall  at 
any  time  now,  and  the  only  hope  we  have  of  advert- 
ing it  is  by  prompt  and  vigorous  action  without  regard 
to  consequences." 

"With  the  list  in  your  possession  you  might  possibly 
succeed,"  said  Dr.  Narbonne,  incredulously;  adding, 
"Without  it  you  are  certain  to  meet  with  failure." 

Jean  Louvet  retired  into  his  own  apartment  to  reflect 
long  and  doubtfully  upon^his  future  proceedings.  The 
morning  was  already  breaking  in  the  east,  when  he 
lay  down  to  enjoy  a  few  hours  of  repose,  muttering 
as  his  head  struck  the  pillow, 

"I  will  take  Narbonne's  advice.  I  will  await  Andre's 
return  before  I  go  on.  For  that  list  of  Robespierre's 
enemies  is  absolutely  necessary  to  my  success  in  this 
affair." 

Such  were  his  reflections  as  he  dropped  into  uncon- 
sciousness; nevertheless,  his  first  act,  after  breakfast 
on  the  following  morning,  was  to  select  an  effectual 
disguise,  steal  out  unobserved  from  the  Maison  Rous- 
seau, and  strike  into  the  winding  road  that  led  in  the 
direction  of  Clichy. 

Moreover,  on  arriving  at  M.  Barrere's  villa,  he 
sought  an  interview  with  that  rich  republican  at  once, 
and,  before  leaving  to  return  to  Paris,  had  perfected 
every  detail  for  the  banquet. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  BANQUET. 

IN  requesting  his  friend,  Barrere,  to  give  a  dinner 
in  Robespierre's  honor,  Jean  Louvet  was  actuated  by  a 
shrewd  political  motive.  A  few  words  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  explain  it.* 

M.  Barrere  was  regarded  as  one  of  Robespierre's  in- 
timates. But  M.  Vauban  also  had  been  considered  a 
close  friend  of  the  tyrant.  Nevertheless,  M.  Vauban 
had  been  arrested.  Might  not  the  same  fate  befall  M. 
Barrere  ? 

If  this  thing  should  happen  during  the  dinner  given 
in  Robespierre's  honor,  it  could  not  fail  to  strike  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  all  the  Representatives  present;  for 
who  among  them  could  feel  that  his  head  was  safe, 
when  the  despot  condemned  even  his  nearest  friends 
to  the  guillotine?  It  was  for  this  reason  that  Jean 
Louvet  had  requested  M.  Barrere  to  invite  Robes- 
pierre's chief  opponents  to  the  entertainment. 

But  what  reasons  had  he  to  suppose  that  such  an 
event  would  happen  ? 

The  strongest  reasons  possible.  Like  M.  Vauban, 
M.  Barrere  was  a  very  wealthy  man.  He  indulged 

*  Vilate  gives  a  lively  description  of  the  remarkable  dinner, 
given  by  Barrere,  in  his  villa  at  Clichy,  which  Carlyle  refers  to 
briefly  in  his  great  history. 

[173] 


1/4  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

in  high-rouged  pleasures,  and  surrounded  himself  with 
elegance.  His  villa  at  Clichy  was  almost  a  palace,  and 
his  manner  of  living  there  magnificent  to  a  degree. 

Jean  had  learned  from  Andre  the  Barber  that  Robes- 
pierre was  bitterly  opposed  to  such  ostentation, 
which  he  regarded  as  a  sure  indication  of  aris- 
tocratic tendencies.  Indeed,  it  was  on  account 
of  his  extravagant  display,  that  M.  Vauban 
had  incurred  his  despotic  friend's  displeasure. 
Moreover,  in  order  to  make  the  reason  for 
his  arrest  obvious  to  all,  it  had  been  timed  to  take 
place  during  the  very  height  of  the  festivities  given 
in  the  Incorruptible  One's  honor.  Was  it  not  almost 
certain,  therefore,  that  the  same  dramatic  scene  would 
be  re-enacted  during  M.  Barrere's  dinner? 

The  fact  that  Robespierre  was  known  to  be  medi- 
tating a  master  stroke  of  politics,  to  rid  the 'Republic 
of  his  remaining  enemies,  as  well  as  those  friends  who 
had  departed  from  democratic  virtue,  rendered  such 
an  occurrence  a  foregone  conclusion,  and  Jean  Louvet 
had  planned  artfully  to  bring  it  about. 

But  he  did  not  intend  to  sacrifice  his  friend,  Barrere, 
to  his  own  designs.  On  the  contrary,  his  arrest  was 
intended  to  arouse  such  fear  in  the  hearts  of  the  Rep- 
resentatives present,  that  they  would  be  prompted  to 
desperate  action  by  the  next  move  Louvet  made. 

In  fact,  it  was  through  this  next  move  that  he  hoped 
to  accomplish  Robespierre's  downfall. 

Andre  the  Barber  had  seen  the  tyrant  examining 
a  list  of  those  he  intended  to  destroy.  Louvet  had 
directed  him  to  procure  it  at  any  hazard;  and,  as  An- 


THE   BANQUET.  175 

dre  was  possessed  of  extraordinary  shrewdness  and 
courage,  his  Chief  was  warranted,  notwithstanding  his 
first  doubts,  in  hoping  that  he  would  succeed  in  the  at- 
tempt. 

The  list  once  in  his  possession,  it  would  be  a  simple 
matter  to  send  it  to  M.  Tallien,  enclosed  in  a  letter 
from  Madame  Fontenai — Simon  the  Jailor  acting  as 
their  go-between — requesting  her  lover  to  carry  it  with 
him  to  Barrere's  dinner,  and,  if  his  host  should  be  ar- 
rested, to  take  advantage  of  the  consternation  of  the 
guests,  to  read  the  names  of  the  condemned  then  and 
there. 

Now,  as  the  majority  of  the  guests  were  to  be  Rep- 
resentatives opposed  to  Robespierre,  it  was  easy  to 
foresee  the  result.  Finding  themselves  already  con- 
demned to  the  guillotine,  they  would  combine  in  a  body 
against  the  tyrant;  confronted  by  certain  death,  they 
would  be  inspired  with  such  supreme  terror,  that  their 
former  fear  of  incurring  the  despot's  displeasure  would 
sink  into  insignificance,  and  the  instinct  of  self-preser- 
vation would  actuate  them  to  attempt  his  downfall,  as 
the  only  chance  of  escaping  destruction  themselves. 

But  Andre  the  Barber  had  failed  to  return  from  his 
mysterious  mission;  nor  had  the  slightest  intelligence 
been  received  from  him  regarding  the  list  he  had  prom- 
ised to  procure.  What  could  be  the  reason  for  his  de- 
lay and  silence  ?  Jean  Louvet  could  not  tell.  All  that 
he  knew  of  the  matter  was  this : 

It  had  placed  him  in  an  appalling  situation. 

True,  it  was  still  possible  that  Andre  might  get  pos- 
session of  Robespierre's  paper,  perhaps  at  the  eleventh 


176  THE   MAN   WHO    DARED^ 

hour,  if  not  sooner;  but,  as  he  had  not  been  informed 
of  its  use  in  Louvet's  plot,  he  would  not  know  what 
to  do  with  it.  Accordingly,  Louvet  had  commissioned 
Frangois  the  Idler  to  seek  out  his  comrade,  on  his  re- 
turn to  Paris;  tell  him  of  the  banquet  at  Clichy;  and 
command  him  to  forward  the  stolen  document  to  Bar- 
rere's  villa,  either  through  M.  Tallien,  or  by  any  other 
safe  means  he  could  devise. 

Louvet  knew  that  he  was  taking  desperate  chances 
in  thus  hoping  against  hope ;  but  he  dared  not  abandon 
such  a  skillfully  arranged  plot,  until  the  last  moment. 
Then  if  he  were  doomed  to  disappointment,  he  would 
resort  to  a  forlorn  expedient  which  offered  but  the  re- 
motest possibility  of  success. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  appointed  day,  Jean 
Louvet  walked  calmly  into  Dr.  Narbonne's  study,  and 
announced,  abruptly: 

"I  am  going  out." 

"Going  out  ?"  cried  the  Doctor  in  alarm.    "Where  ?" 

"To  Clichy,  to  attend  Barrere's  bachelor  dinner." 

"What  madness!"  exclaimed  Dr.  Narbonne.  "You 
would  be  recognized  and  arrested  at  once." 

"That  is  hardly  probably,"  answered  Jean;  "for  I 
intend  to  assume  a  disguise." 

"A  disguise?" 

"Yes.  I  have  arranged  with  my  friend,  Barrere,  to 
attend  his  dinner  in  the  capacity  of  a  lackey.  He  has 
sent  me  a  suit  of  his  livery,  and  I  have  the  art  of  dis- 
guising my  countenance,  as  you  well  know." 

"But  why  must  you  attend  this  dinner?"  asked  Dr. 
Narbonne,  anxiously. 


THE  BANQUET.  1 77 

"To  direct  events  into  their  proper  channels." 

An  hour  later,  a  young  man,  attired  in  the  gorgeous 
livery  of  M.  Barrere's  household  servants,  emerged 
from  the  Maison  Rousseau,  and  walked  briskly  in  the 
direction  of  Clichy.  On  arriving  at  his  master's  coun- 
try seat,  he  went  straightway  to  the  banquet  hall, 
where  he  joined  his  brother  lackeys  in  preparing  the 
table  for  the  approaching  feast. 

As  a  number  of  extra  servants  had  been  engaged 
for  the  occasion,  the  fact  of  his  being  a  stranger  was 
not  remarked.  It  was  noticed,  however,  that  he  per- 
formed his  duties  with  hesitation,  and  was  not  an  ex- 
perienced servant. 

M.  Barrere's  banquet  hall  was  on  the  first  floor  of  the 
villa,  and  opened  on  one  side  upon  a  broad  veranda, 
from  which  a  flight  of  steps  led  down  into  a  beau- 
tiful garden.  As  the  day  was  extremely  hot,  all  the 
windows  were  left  open,  so  that  the  perfumes  from  this 
flowery  domain  were  wafted  into  the  apartment,  to 
mingle  with  the  odors  of  rare  and  delicate  blooms  that 
adorned  the  table. 

If  the  air  had  been  cooler,  these  odors  would  have 
been  delightful.  As  it  was,  they  contributed  to  the  op- 
pressive effect  upon  the  senses  of  the  heated  atmos- 
phere. 

This  circumstance  is  mentioned,  because,  trifling  as 
it  appears,  it  proved  of  vast  moment  to  the  future  his- 
tory of  France. 

The  hour  set  for  the  dinner  was  one  in  the  afternoon, 
and  the  first  of  the  guests  began  to  arrive  shortly  after 
midday.  They  were  received  by  M.  Barrere  in  his  re- 


178  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED.  ' 

ception  room,  where  they  were  soon  joined  by  others, 
and  formed  into  little  groups,  buzzing  with  wit  and 
laughter. 

Among  the  earliest  of  the  arrivals  was  M.  Tallien. 
Jean  Louvet  studied  his  face  closely,  as  he  passed  by 
him  through  the  hall,  but  could  observe  nothing  to  in- 
dicate that  the  fatal  list  was  in  his  possession.  His 
countenance  was  placid,  and  his  manner  careless  and 
easy. 

Shortly  before  one  o'clock,  Freron  put  in  his  appear- 
ance, accompanied  by  Carnot,  Collot  d'Herbois,  Bour- 
don and  Barras.  Passing  into  the  reception  room, 
they  received  the  greeting  of  their  host,  and  then 
formed  a  group  around  Tallien. 

At  last  one  o'clock  arrived ;  yet  Robespierre  had  not 
come. 

Was  a  repetition  of  the  Vauban  affair  to  occur? 
It  was  evident  that  the  guests  thought  so;  for,  as 
minute  after  minute  passed  by,  their  faces  became 
more  and  more  anxious.  They  whispered,  cast  fur- 
tive glances  toward  the  door,  and  then  pitying  looks  at 
their  smiling  host. 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  Louvet  re- 
pressed his  mortification,  on  beholding  these  expres- 
sions of  anxiety.  For  they  informed  him  that  his 
plans  were  moving  just  as  he  had  anticipated;  that 
the  time  was  fast  approaching  for  his  master-move; 
and  yet,  fv,r  want  of  a  mere  scrap  of  paper,  all  his 
deeply  laid  designs  were  doomed  to  failure. 

The  thought  of  it  rendered  him  desperate. 

"The  finger  of  fate  is  in  this,"  he  reflected,  bitterly. 


THE  BANQUET. 

"It  is  evident  that  I  must  now  await  my  chance  to 
carry  out  my  last  resource." 

He  was  standing  in  a  doorway,  from  which  he  could 
observe  all  that  occurred  in  the  reception  room,  when 
a  hand  was  laid  lightly  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  voice 
whispered  in  his  ear: 

"A  word  with  you,  Chief." 

Turning  toward  the  speaker,  he  recognized  at  a 
glance,  Andre  the  Barber,  although  he  was  disguised 
as  a  lackey  like  himself. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  joy  that  filled 
his  heart  at  this  unexpected  meeting  with  his  agent. 
In  the  surprise  of  the  first  moment,  he  stood  motion- 
less and  dumbfounded;  then  he  was  seized  with  an 
ecstacy  that  prompted  him  to  sing  and  dance. 

For  did  not  Andre's  presence  at  the  banquet,  and 
in  disguise,  prove  conclusively  that  he  had  Robes- 
pierre's list  in  his  possession? 

"The  sight  of  you  fills  me  with  joy !"  he  exclaimed. 
"It  inspires  me  with  assurance  of  success !" 

If  he  had  not  been  so  elated,  he  might,  perhaps, 
have  remarked  that  Andre  did  not  respond  to  his 
greeting  with  the  enthusiasm  it  merited. 

"Come,  my  dear  fellow,"  resumed  Louvet,  "explain 
to  me  how  you  contrived  to  get  here  ?" 

"Follow  me  into  the  garden,  and  I  will  tell  you  all." 

"But  that  might  attract  attention,"  replied  Louvet, 
laughing  softly. 

"No;  for  I  have  been  ordered  there  to  cut  more 
roses  for  the  table.  I  take  you  with  me  to  assist — do 
you  understand?" 


180  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"Perfectly,"  was  the  gay  response;  and  Jean  Lou- 
vet  motioned  his  agent  to  lead  on. 

When  they  had  passed  down  the  flight  of  steps,  and 
had  entered  the  garden,  the  Chief  resumed  his  ques- 
tioning of  his  agent. 

"So  you  were  sent  upon  an  errand?"  he  asked,  in 
a  spirit  of  playfulness ;  adding  in  tones  of  pretended 
sternness,  "By  whom?" 

"Why  I  told  you  in  my  letter,"  returned  Andre, 
in  surprise.  «' 

"You  mentioned  a  patron,  but  not  his  name,"  said 
Louvet. 

"I  left  that  for  you  to  surmise." 

"Which  I  did,  by  guessing  he  was  Robespierre. 
Come,  tell  me  where  he  sent  you,  my  good  Andre  ?" 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  a  secluded  spot,  and 
were  completely  surrounded  by  rose-bushes,  which 
bent  beneath  the  weight  of  buds  and  full-blown  flow- 
ers. Wherever  they  looked,  their  eyes  were  delighted 
by  a  profusion  of  exquisite  colors;  whenever  they 
breathed,  they  inhaled  delicious  odors. 

"Come,  answer  my  question,"  Jean  Louvet  repeated. 
"Where  did  the  tyrant  send  you?" 

"Nowhere!  Nowhere!"  cried  Andre,  with  an  oath. 
"He  despatched  me  on  an  errand  to  get  rid  of  me." 

"To  get  rid  of  you  ?  For  what  reason  ?" 

"Because  he  suspected  and  feared  me ;"  and  Andre 
fell  vigorously  to  work,  culling  roses  for  the  table. 

Until  then,  Jean  Louvet  had  been  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  his  agent  had  at  last  succeeded  in  pro- 
curing the  desired  paper.  Indeed,  his  sudden  display 


THE  BANQUET.  l8l 

of  gaiety  on  first  recognizing  him  was  but  the  natural 
consequence  of  his  belief  that  such  was  the  case.  But 
Andre's  strange  answers  to  his  questions  had  some- 
what shaken  his  confidence,  and  he  resolved  to  ascer- 
tain the  truth  at  once.  So,  without  changing  his  tone, 
or  manner,  he  remarked,  casually : 

"It  would  have  been  wiser  in  Robespierre,  your 
patron,  to  have  suspected  and  feared  you  before ;"  add- 
ing, "It  can  avail  him  nothing  to  be  cautious,  now  that 
you  have  secured  his  list." 

Andre  suddenly  stopped  in  his  work,  and  looked 
shame-facedly  upon  the  ground ;  observing  which,  his 
Chief  resumed  more  sternly: 

"Is  it  not  so?  Come,  don't  stand  moping-  there; 
but  raise  your  face  and  answer  me  like  a  man !" 

At  this  Andre  uplifted  his  face,  down  which  huge 
tears  were  trickling,  and  broke  out,  with  a  gesture  of 
disappointment : 

"Alas,  Chief !  Your  plot  is  doomed  to  miscarry ;  for 
I  have  failed  you !" 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE  FATAL  LIST. 

"FAILED  me  ?"  cried  Jean  Louvet,  aghast,  "What  do 
you  mean?" 

"That  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  steal  the  list  you 
needed." 

Louvet's  face  became  pale  beneath  the  paint  that 
disguised  it;  but  he  never  lost  his  composure  for  an 
instant. 

"Pray  explain  why  it  was  impossible  to  secure  this 
list?"  he  demanded. 

"Because  Robespierre  carries  it  with  him  wherever 
he  goes.  It  is  never  out  of  his  possession." 

And  Andre  explained  in  detail  all  the  circumstances 
of  his  search  through  the  tyrant's  apartment,  and  of 
the  latter's  surprising  him  in  the  act  of  going  through 
his  wardrobe. 

Louvet  heard  him  through  attentively,  and  then 
asked : 

"But  why  do  you  say  that  this  document  is  never 
out  of  Robespierre's  possession?" 

"It  is  the  inference  that  any  logical  mind  would  nat- 
urally draw  from  the  circumstances  of  the  case.  Robes- 
pierre put  on  a  new  suit,  just  before  leaving  his  lodg- 
[182] 


THE  FATAL  LIST.  183 

ings,  and,  behold !  when  he  returned  home,  the  list  was 
in  the  inside  pocket  of  his  new  coat." 

Louvet  reflected  for  some  time  before  again  speak- 
ing. When  he  did  so  he  asked : 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that,  if  Robespierre  should 
grace  this  dinner  with  his  presence,  the  paper  could  be 
found  upon  his  person?" 

"Exactly." 

"What  makes  you  so  certain  of  this?" 

"Because  I  was  present  when  he  removed  the  new 
clothes  I  spoke  of,  and  put  on  the  suit  he  usually  wears 
when  wandering  about  the  fields." 

"What!  does  he  change  his  dress  so  frequently?" 

"Yes,  and  the  fatal  list  with  it.  On  the  occasion  I 
mentioned,  I  saw  him  remove  it  from  the  coat  pocket 
of  his  new  suit,  to  that  of  the  one  he  put  on  before  tak- 
ing his  usual  stroll." 

The  Chief  stamped  his  foot  in  vexation. 

"Oh,  if  Robespierre  would  only  attend,  this  din- 
ner!" he  exclaimed.  "In  that  case,  something  might 
be  done  yet." 

While  he  was  uttering  these  words,  the  sounds  of 
carriage- wheels  attracted  his  attention;  and,  looking 
toward  the  villa,  he  beheld  a  modest  conveyance 
rapidly  approaching  the  port-cochere.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments it  drew  up  in  front  of  the  house,  four  men 
alighted,  and  proceeded  to  mount  the  steps  leading  to 
the  entrance. 

Louvet  uttered  an  exclamation  of  mingled  joy  and 
astonishment ;  for  one  of  the  men  was  Robespierre. 

The  despot  was  accompanied  by  his  brother,  Augus- 


184  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

tin,  and  two  of  his  chief  lieutenants,  Couthon  and  St. 
Just.  He  was  attired  in  his  favorite  sky-blue  coat, 
black  breeches,  and  silk  stockings,  and  was  evidently 
in  a  cheerful  state  of  mind. 

As  he  passed  through  the  door  with  his  companions, 
a  murmur  could  be  heard  in  the  house,  expressive  of 
the  satisfaction  occasioned  by  his  arrival. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  exclaimed  Louvet,  suddenly  changing 
from  jubilation  to  disgust.  "Just  hear  those  servile 
fellows,  Andre!  But  a  moment  ago,  they  were  filled 
with  gloom  and  silence,  because  they  trembled  at  the 
absence  of  their  master.  Now  that  he  has  arrived, 
however,  they  are  exultant,  for  they  believe  that  they 
are,  for  the  time  at  least,  safe."  He  paused  a  moment 
reflectively  and  added,  "Are  you  sure  he  has  the  list 
with  him,  Andre?" 

"Unless  he  has  destroyed  it,  yes !" 

"Then  we  must  devise  some  means  of  getting  pos- 
session of  it,"  said  Louvet,  with  resolution.  "Indeed, 
it  is  more  important  to  my  purposes,  since  Robespierre 
has  come  to  this  dinner,  than  ever  it  was  before.  For 
his  honoring  the  entertainment  by  his  attendance,  will 
lull  the  anxiety  of  his  enemies,  and  they  will  need  a 
positive  proof  of  his  intention  to  destroy  them  to 
arouse  them  from  their  torpor." 

"I  fear  we  have  an  impossible  task  before  us," 
groaned  Andre. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  was  Louvet's  gloomy 
response. 

On  reentering  the  house,  they  found  the  guests  all 
seated  at  the  banquet  table,  which  groaned  beneath 


THE   FATAL  LIST.  1 8$ 

the  weight  of  an  abundance  of  costly  viands.  Robes- 
pierre occupied  the  seat  of  honor,  at  the  right  of  his 
host,  while  near  him  sat  St.  Just,  Couthon,  and  his 
brother,  Augustin.  Tallien,  Freron,  Barras  and  others, 
who  were  his  political  opponents,  occupied  seats  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  board. 

M.  Barrere  was  an  admirable  host,  and,  under  his 
skillful  guidance,  the  conversation  was  directed  into 
pleasant  channels.  Politics  were  avoided;  the  most 
light  and  airy  themes  suggested;  and,  as  the  wine 
passed  around,  wit  and  laughter  sparkled  and  flowed. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  dinner,  Robespierre's  sallow 
face  became  suddenly  pale,  and  he  sank  back  half 
fainting  in  his  chair.  M.  Barrere  sprang  to  his  assist- 
ance on  the  instant. 

"What  ails  you,  friend  Robespierre?"  he  inquired 
anxiously,  as  he  passed  his  arm  around  the  tyrant's 
shoulder  to  support  him. 

"Nothing,  but  a  passing  faintness,"  was  the  weak 
reply.  "The  oppressive  odor  of  your  flowers  sickens 
me." 

"Then  allow  me  to  conduct  you  out  of  doors,  where 
you  can  breathe  more  freely." 

Augustin  Robespierre  seconded  the  suggestion  of 
the  considerate  host,  and  assisted  him  in  conducting 
the  fainting  man  to  a  shaded  corner  of  the  veranda. 

While  the  excitement  caused  by  this  incident  was  at 
its  height,  two  lackies  might  have  been  seen,  whisper- 
ing earnestly  together  in  a  pantry  adjoining  the  ban- 
quet hall. 


1 86  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"Do  you  know  what  has  happened?"  asked  one, 
anxiously. 

"Do  you  refer  to  the  fainting  spell  that  has  overcome 
Robespierre  ?" 

"Yes,"  whispered  the  other,  quickly ;  adding,  "It  has 
suggested  to  me  an  idea." 

"An  idea,  Chief?" 

"I  have  said  it,"  returned  the  other,  whom  the  reader 
has  probably  recognized  as  Jean  Louvet.  "Let  me  ex- 
plain it  at  once,"  he  added,  hurriedly ;  "for,  if  feasible, 
it  must  be  executed  immediately." 

"Proceed,  I  am  listening,"  answered  Andre. 

"It  is  this,"  went  on  his  Chief:  "Being  overcome  by 
the  heat,  it  would  be  but  a  simple  act  of  courtesy  on 
my  part  to  suggest  removing  the  tyrant's  coat,  in  order 
to  relieve  him  of  its  burden.  Of  course,"  he  added, 
with  a  meaning  glance,  "it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to 
explain  what  I  will  do  afterwards." 

This  suggestion  meeting  with  Andre's  unqualified 
approval,  Louvet  hastened  to  the  veranda,  bear- 
ing a  tray  containing  an  iced  sherbet  in  his  hand,  and, 
approaching  the  group  surrounding  Robespierrre,  re- 
marked anxiously : 

"I  have  had  experience  in  such  cases,  good  citizens, 
and  I  trust  you  will  not  consider  my  advice  insolent. 
I  have  just  made  this  cooling  sherbet  for  Citizen 
Robespierre,  and  I  am  sure  it  will  greatly  revive  him." 

The  group  immediately  parted,  to  allow  the  con- 
siderate lackey  to  approach  die  sick  man,  who  was 
lying  back  in  a  state  of  collapse,  gasping  for  breath. 

Without  an  instant's  hesitation,  the  lackey  placed  the 


THE  FATAL  LIST.  iS/ 

invigorating  drink  to  his  lips,  and  persuaded  him  to 
sip  it.  Then  he  burst  out  in  the  authoritative  tones  per- 
mitted only  to  a  nurse,  or  a  physician : 

"Why,  monsieur,  can  it  be  possible  that  you  have 
not  removed  your  coat  ?  Come,  off  with  it  at  once,  or 
it  will  smother  you !" 

Slowly,  suspiciously,  the  crafty  tyrant  rolled  his 
yellow  eyes  toward  the  lackey's  countenance,  and  re- 
marked in  a  voice,  half-audible,  yet  resolute: 

"My  coat  shall  remain  where  it  is !" 

Having  pronounced  this  ultimatum,  Robespierre 
closed  his  eyelids,  and  relapsed  into  his  former  silence. 

Jean  Louvet  retreated  from  his  side,  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  sustained  a  humiliating  defeat; 
yet  he  had  made  certain  of  one  important  thing  beyond 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  The  tyrant  had  convinced  him, 
by  the  tone  and  manner  in  which  he  had  refused  to 
part  with  his  coat,  that  the  paper  so  necessary  to  the 
success  of  his  design,  was  actually  in  one  of  its  pockets. 

Although  rebuffed  in  his  first  attempt,  Louvet  was 
not  the  kind  of  man  to  acknowledge  himself  hopelessly 
vanquished.  On  returning  to  the  banquet  hall,  there- 
fore, he  devoted  a  considerable  time  to  reflection.  Re- 
tiring into  a  pantry,  where  he  pretended  to  be  busy  in 
preparing  various  articles  of  table  service  for  the 
courses  that  were  yet  to  come,  he  mused  in  this  wise : 

"Andre  is  undoubtedly  right  in  his  conjecture  that 
Robespierre  invariably  carries  that  list  of  his  upon  his 
person ;  otherwise,  he  certainly  would  have  adopted  my 
suggestion,  and  removed  his  coat.  He  clings  to  it  with 
such  tenacity,  that  it  puts  me  to  my  wit's  end  to  devise 


1 88  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

a  means  of  getting  hold  of  it,  even  for  one  brief  second. 
I  would  require  no  longer  time  to  accomplish  my  pur- 
pose." 

Of  a  sudden  he  started  so  violently,  that  the  dish  he 
then  held  in  his  hand  fell  crashing  to  the  floor. 

For  a  novel  idea  had  occurred  to  him. 

"I'll  fetch  this  sly  fox  when  he  returns,"  he  mut- 
tered ;  and  walked  quickly  back  into  the  banquet  hall. 

Noticing  that  the  faces  of  all  the  guests  were  flushed 
with  wine  and  heat,  he  quietly  approached  Barrere  and 
suggested : 

"You  may  not  be  aware  of  it,  monsieur,  but  the  heat 
is  becoming  excessive.  I  would  advise  you,  therefore, 
to  invite  your  guests  to  remove  their  coats." 

Recognizing  the  voice  as  that  of  Jean  Louvet,  M. 
Barrere  understood  this  hint  to  be  a  command,  and 
acted  upon  it  without  the  least  delay.  Rising  from 
his  chair,  he  cried  out  cheerily : 

"Come,  citizens,  off  with  your  coats !  The  heat  is  too 
intense  to  be  burdened  with  them  longer." 

And,  setting  the  example,  he  removed  his  own  gar- 
ment, and  handed  it  to  Jean  Louvet  to  hang  in  an  ad- 
joining closet.  Immediately  every  man  at  the  table  did 
likewise — all  but  the  fainting  Robespierre,  who  was 
still  recovering  from  his  illness  in  the  open  air. 

Having  succeeded  so  far  in  his  design,  Jean  Louvet 
went  further,  and,  again  drawing  near  his  supposed 
master,  bent  down  and  whispered  respectfully  in  his 
ear: 

"If  Robespierre  refuses  to  follow  your  example,  twit 
him  with  being  an  aristocrat." 


THE   FATAL   LIST.  189 

"Thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  the  oversight,  my 
worthy  fellow,"  cried  M.  Barrere,  loud  enough  for  all 
his  guests  to  hear ;  then  addressing  the  assemblage  he 
added,  in  cheerful  tones:  "That  lackey  is  a  perfect 
treasure,  citizens !" 

When  Robespierre  returned  to  the  banquet  hall,  a 
short  time  afterward,  he  seemed  highly  amused  to  find 
all  the  guests  in  their  shirt  sleeves.  He  made  no 
attempt,  however,  to  remove  his  own  coat,  until  his 
host,  in  obedience  to  Jean  Louvet's  instructions,  said  to 
him,  laughingly: 

"Come,  Citizen  Robespierre,  you  must  not  be  the  only 
aristocrat  in  this  democratic  gathering.  Off  with  your 
coat,  my  good  friend,  and  prove  your  republican 
spirit !" 

Robespierre  hesitated ;  but,  realizing  that  a  leader  of 
his  boasted  republicanism  could  hardly  refuse  such  a 
simple  request  with  consistency,  he  threw  off  his  sky- 
blue  garment,  with  a  sickly  smile  of  reluctance,  and 
handed  it  to  Jean  Louvet  to  take  care  of.  He  probably 
reasoned  that  he  could  take  this  risk  with  safety;  for 
what  man  in  France  would  venture  to  rifle  the  pockets 
of  the  great  Robespierre  ? 

The  dinner  over,  M.  Barrere  conducted  his  guests 
into  the  garden  to  enjoy  the  air,  and  then  it  was  that 
Louvet  executed  his  master  move. 

While  carrying  Robespierre's  coat  to  the  closet,  he 
stealthily  thrust  his  hand  in  its  inside  pocket,  and  found 
a  paper  which  proved  to  be  the  fatal  list.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  steal  it;  but,  on  further  reflection,  he 
doubted  the  policy  of  such  an  act,  for  these  reasons : 


IOX>  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Presented  by  himself,  it  might  pass  as  a  forgery, 
and  be  disregarded.  In  order  that  it  should  produce 
the  result  he  desired,  some  one,  whose  name  was  upon 
it,  must  find  it  in  the  tyrant's  coat. 

So  he  looked  the  list  over,  and  saw  that  the  first  name 
written  down  was  that  of  Representative  Carnot,  a  man 
of  great  courage  and  influence. 

"The  very  man  for  my  purpose,"  he  reflected,  as  he 
thrust  the  paper  quickly  back  in  its  hiding  place.  "He 
is  fortunately  present,  and  is  approachable,  even  by  a 
lackey." 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  he  discovered  that 
in  this  he  was  mistaken ;  for,  although  Carnot  was  not 
the  kind  of  man  to  rebuff  any  person  who  approached 
him,  still  it  was  a  difficult  matter  to  obtain  from  him  a 
secret  hearing. 

Indeed,  M.  Carnot  was  so  witty  and  agreeable  that 
his  society  was  in  constant  request,  and,  whenever  he 
attended  a  social  function,  of  a  public,  or  private  char- 
acter, he  was  invariably  surrounded  by  a  host  of  obse- 
quious admirers. 

This  occasion  being  no  exception  to  the  rule,  Louvet 
soon  realized  that  he  must  make  a  desperate  attempt  to 
obtain  an  interview,  or  be  defeated  in  the  end,  by  seeing 
Robespierre  depart  from  the  villa  with  the  list  on  which 
so  much  depended  in  his  possession.  So,  regardless  of 
social  observances,  he  walked  boldly  down  into  the 
garden,  and  approached  M.  Carnot  and  his  friends  with 
the  utmost  confidence. 

"Citizen  Carnot,"  he  said,  very  gravely,  "perhaps  you 
are  not  aware  that  I  am  a  devoted  friend  of  yours," 


THE   FATAL   LIST.  IQI 

"Indeed?"  answered  the  Representative,  with  an 
amused  glance  at  the  company. 

"Yes,"  said  the  supposed  lackey,  more  gravely  than 
before,  "I  have  come  here  to  prove  my  friendship 
beyond  a  doubt." 

"In  what  way,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"If  you  will  grant  me  a  brief  interview,  I  will  tell 
you." 

And  Louvet  directed  such  a  compelling  glance  upon 
M.  Carnot,  that  the  latter  turned  from  his  friends  and 
immediately  accompanied  him  to  a  place  where  they 
could  converse  unheard. 

No  sooner  had  they  reached  this  covert,  than  the 
lackey  turned  suddenly  toward  him  and  whispered  in 
urgent,  passionate  tones : 

"M.  Carnot,  I  have  just  discovered  that  your  life 
is  in  deadly  peril,  and  have  come  here  to  warn  you  that, 
unless  you  act  promptly,  it  will  be  too  late." 

Carnot  turned  upon  him  a  look  of  incredulity. 

"My  life  threatened  ?    By  whom  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  no  time  to  expain,"  was  Louvet's  earnest 
answer;  "for,  if  I  should  be  seen  with  you,  it  would 
excite  suspicion.  I  implore  you,  therefore,  to  listen  to 
what  I  say !  Go  back  to  the  house  at  once ;  hasten  to 
the  closet,  where  the  guests'  coats  are  hanging,  and  seek 
out  that  of  Robespierre.  It  hangs  on  the  third  hook 
from  the  right  wall,  and  you  cannot  fail  to  recognize 
it  from  its  sky-blue  color.  In  the  inside  pocket  you 
will  find  a  list  of  those  whom  Robespierre  has  doomed 
to  destruction.  Your  name  heads  it  !"* 

*  At  Barrere's  bachelor  dinner,  writes  Carlyle,  "  The  day  be- 


192  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Carnot  waited  to  hear  no  more. 

In  fact  he  walked  toward  the  villa  so  rapidly,  that 
Louvet  feared  he  would  attract  observation.  On  en- 
tering the  banquet  hall  himself,  shortly  afterward, 
he  encountered  the  Representative  coming  from  the 
coat-closet  with  an  expression  of  haggard  terror  upon 
his  white  face. 

"Was  my  warning  not  true  ?"  he  whispered,  quickly. 

"Oh,  Mon  Dieu,  yes !"  groaned  the  terrified  man,  as 
he  rushed  wildly  forth  to  seek  his  friends. 

coming  so  hot,  it  is  said,  the  guests  stript  their  coats,  .  .  . 
whereupon  Carnot  glided  out ;  groped  in  Robespierre's  pocket ; 
found  a  list  of  forty,  his  own  name  among  them  ;  and  tarried 
not  at  the  wine  cup  that  day."  It  was  the  discovery  of  this  list 
which  resulted  in  the  mysterious,  nocturnal  councils,  that  pre- 
cipitated the  rapid  onrush  of  events  terminating  in  Robespierre's 
downfall 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

EVENTS  CROWD  AND  JOSTLE. 

As  Carnot  was  passing  hastily  down  the  steps  of  the 
veranda,  he  met  Robespierre  and  his  party  returning  to 
the  villa. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  a  vast  hurry,  citizen,"  remarked 
Robespierre,  suspiciously. 

"Yes,"  answered  Carnot,  with  an  effort  to  appear 
calm.  "I  have  lost  a  valuable  stud,  and  have  been 
searching  the  floor  of  the  banquet  hall  in  hopes  of 
finding  it." 

"Did  you  look  in  the  coat-closet  for  it?"  inquired 
Robespierre,  with  a  crafty  twinkle  in  his  yellow  eyes. 

Carnot  started  guiltily. 

"Why,  no — why  no,"  he  stammered.  "In  fact — it 
never  occurred  to  me — to  look  for  it  there." 

Robespierre  fixed  upon  him  a  penetrating  glance, 
full  of  distrust  and  malevolence,  and  passed  on  into  the 
house.  In  the  banquet  hall,  he  encountered  the  lackey 
to  whom  he  had  intrusted  his  coat. 

"My  friend,"  said  he,  "did  you  observe  a  man  come 
out  of  that  closet  a  moment  ago?" 

"One  of  the  guests  was  here  just  now,"  answered 
Louvet,  who  was  the  lackey  in  question;  "but  he  did 
not  go  near  the  closet," 


194  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

"What  was  he  doing?" 

"He  appeared  to  be  looking  for  something,"  an- 
swered Louvet,  at  random. 

Robespierre  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  and  his  face 
brightened. 

"Well,  bring  me  my  coat,"  he  said.  "It  is  time  I 
returned  to  Paris." 

In  the  meantime,  Carnot  was  hurrying,  here  and 
there,  through  the  garden,  holding  brief,  excited  con- 
ferences with  his  friends. 

To  Tallien,  he  said: — "Our  heads  are  in  danger. 
Meet  me  at  my  house  at  midnight." 

To  Freron : — "There  will  be  a  meeting  at  my  house 
at  twelve  to-night.  If  you  do  not  wish  to  perish  mis- 
erably, attend  it." 

To  Collot  d'Herbois: — "Come  to  my  residence  at 
midnight.  The  tyrant  is  meditating  mischief." 

To  Barras: — "The  Republic  is  threatened.  If  you 
would  save  yourself,  do  not  fail  to  visit  me  to-night  at 
twelve." 

To  Bourdon,  Thuriot,  Lecointre  and  others: — In- 
structions to  the  same  effect. 

There  was  no  returning  to  the  wine  cup  that  day. 

Robespierre  and  his  partisans  having  first  taken 
leave,  his  opponents  did  not  tarry  long  behind  them. 
Jean  Louvet,  whose  keen  eyes  were  open  to  every- 
thing, noticed  the  disturbance  and  hurry  of  their  de- 
parture, and  rubbed  his  hands  together,  delightedly. 

Meeting  Andre  the  Barber  in  the  hallway,  when  all 
was  over,  he  whispered : 

"A  political  storm  is  brewing.     Now  listen  to  my 


EVENTS  CROWD  AND  JOSTLE.  195 

directions:  a  secret  meeting  will  undoubtedly  be  held 
somewhere  to-night.  It  will  be  a  gathering  of  Robes- 
pierre's enemies.  You  must  find  out  when  and  where 
it  will  take  place,  and  bring  me  word  at  the  Maison 
Rousseau." 


It  was  given  out  by  the  doorkeeper  of  M.  Carnot's 
residence  that  evening,  that  his  master  was  ill,  and 
could  receive  no  visitors.  At  an  earlier  hour  than 
usual,  the  house  was  closed  for  the  night,  and  every 
window  darkened. 

Nevertheless,  shortly  before  midnight,  a  number  of 
mysterious  visitors  began  to  arrive,  singly  and  on  foot. 
They  entered  the  mansion  through  the  basement  door; 
but  not  until  after  they  had  made  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  street  to  assure  themselves  that  they  were 
unobserved. 

Shortly  after  twelve  o'clock,  these  persons  were  all 
gathered  in  M.  Carnot's  library,  on  the  second  floor, 
anxiously  awaiting  the  news  they  had  come  to  hear. 
Their  host  was  pacing  the  room  in  evident  agitation, 
and  the  wild  glitter  in  his  eyes  filled  them  with  alarm. 

Suddenly  he  strode  excitedly  to  the  fireplace,  and, 
turning  upon  his  heel,  broke  out  in  trembling  accents: 

"My  friends,  I  made  a  startling  discovery  this  day. 
You  remember  that,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  dinner  at 
Barrere's,  we  all  went  forth  into  the  garden  for  the 
air.  While  there,  I  was  approached  by  one  of  the  serv- 
ants, who  told  me  that  my  life  was  threatened,  and 


196  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

that,  if  I  would  save  myself,  I  must  obey  his 
directions." 

M.  Carnot  paused  a  moment,  to  gain  better  control 
of  his  trembling  voice,  and  then  proceeded : 

"You  may  recollect  that  we  had  all  stripped  off  our 
coats,  on  account  of  the  heat,  and  that  they  had  been 
hung  in  a  closet  adjoining  the  banquet  hall.  Well, 
this  honest  servant  directed  me  to  go  back  into  the 
house  instantly,  enter  this  closet,  and  search  in  the 
inside  pocket  of  Robespierre's  coat  for  a  document  that 
would  enlighten  me  as  to  his  meaning.  I  did  so,  and 
found  the  paper  he  referred  to.  On  opening  it,  I  saw 
that  it  contained  a  list  of  names,  in  Robespierre's  hand- 
writing, with  this  heading  inscribed  above : 

"  'Traitors  whose  Heads  the  Republic  Requires/ 

"You  can  imagine  my  consternation,  friends,  when 
I  saw  that  the  first  name  on  the  list  was  my  own. 
There  were  about  forty  other  names,  as  near  as  I  could 
judge;  but  I  had  no  time  to  read  them  all.  I  managed, 
however,  to  make  out  a  few  of  them,  and  then,  fearing 
discovery,  I  thrust  the  paper  back  into  Robespierre's 
pocket,  and  hurried  forth  into  the  garden." 

The  fright  and  amazement  produced  by  this  revela- 
tion were  indescribable.  The  faces  of  all  became 
ghastly,  and  a  tremor  passed  through  every  frame. 
Finally  Tallien  ventured  to  inquire,  in  tones  of  dread : 

"Was  my  name  on  the  list,  Carnot  ?" 

"It  was." 

"And  mine?"  asked  Freron. 

Carnot  bowed  his  head  gravely  in  assent. 

At  this,  there  arose  a  chorus  of  terrified  inquiries 


EVENTS  CROWD  AND  JOSTLE.  197 

from  the  others,  to  learn  if  their  names  also  were 
among  those  of  the  doomed.  Carnot  motioned  for 
silence,  and  said  seriously: 

"The  only  other  names  I  saw  on  the  list  were  those 
of  Barras,  Bourdon  and  Collot  d'Herbois.  They  were 
directly  underneath  my  own,  and,  therefore,  were  com- 
prehended in  the  hasty  glance  I  threw  upon  the  paper. 
You  should  remember,  friends,  that  I  was  running  a 
great  risk,  and  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  examine 
closer.  I  can  assure  you,  however,  that  there  were 
over  forty  names  in  all,  and  that  no  man  among  us  can 
consider  himself  safe." 

This  announcement  was  followed  by  a  long  period  of 
silence,  broken  at  intervals  by  suppressed  ejaculations, 
sighs  and  groans  of  fear. 

Tallien  was  the  first  to  shake  off  this  dreadful 
apathy. 

"Bestir  yourselves,  my  friends!"  he  cried.  "This 
is  no  time  to  give  way  to  fright.  Something  must  be 
done,  and  that  without  delay." 

"Alas!"  returned  Bourdon,  dejectedly.  "What  can 
be  done  against  the  all-powerful  Robespierre  ?" 

"Nothing,  without  firmness  and  daring,"  replied  a 
voice  from  the  library  door. 

Every  head  was  turned  quickly  toward  the  speaker; 
every  face  became  rigid  with  fright;  while  the  eyes 
of  all  grew  big  with  amazement,  on  beholding  the 
figure  of  a  strange  young  man,  standing  erect  and  mo- 
tionless upon  the  threshold. 


198  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Jean  Louvet  had  returned  from  the  dinner  at  Clichy, 
and  was  sitting  with  Dr.  Narbonne  in  the  latter's  study 
in  the  Maison  Rousseau,  when  a  sharp  knock  sounded 
on  the  door. 

"That  must  be  Andre  returned  from  his  errand," 
he  muttered,  as  he  arose  to  admit  the  late  visitor. 

In  this  surmise,  however,  he  was  mistaken,  for 
Francois  the  Idler  entered. 

"Ah,  so  it  is  you,  Fran9ois  ?"  said  Louvet,  motioning 
the  young  man  to  a  seat. 

"Yes,  Chief,"  was  the  response.  "I  have  come  here 
to  bring  you  bad  news." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  returned  Francois,  gloomily, 
"it  grieves  me  to  inform  you  that  a  friend  of  yours  is 
in  the  gravest  peril.  As  I  was  passing  by  the  Con- 
ciergerie  Prison,  this  evening,  I  saw  three  tumbrils 
drive  up  to  the  door,  loaded  with  prisoners  whom  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal  had  condemned  to  the  guil- 
lotine to-morrow." 

"Presently  the  prisoners  came  forth  from  the  carts, 
and  I  recognized  among  them  M.  Vauban." 

Louvet  uttered  an  exclamation  of  despair. 

"Is  it  possible  that  Robespierre's  vengeance  is  so 
swift?"  he  cried. 

"Secondly,"  went  on  Francois,  without  noticing  the 
interruption,  "I  happened  to  stroll  into  the  Jacobin 
Club  on  my  way  hither,  and,  while  loitering  there,  in 
gossip  with  several  of  the  members,  Robespierre  rushed 
suddenly  into  the  hall.  Pale  and  quivering  with  excite- 


EVENTS  CROWD  AND  JOSTLE.  199 

ment,  he  mounted  into  the  tribune,  and  delivered  a 
fiery  speech  to  his  admiring  associates. 

"He  informed  them  that  the  time  had  arrived  to 
clear  the  National  Convention  of  all  traitors,  and  said, 
further,  that  it  was  his  intention  to  reappear  among  the 
Representatives  on  the  eighth  of  Thermidor,  to  de- 
nounce these  traitors  and  demand  their  accusation." 

"Merciful  God!"  exclaimed  Louvet.  "Why  the 
eighth  of  Thermidor  is  to-morrow." 

While  these  words  were  still  quivering  upon  his 
lips,  another  knock  resounded  on  the  door. 

"Can  this  mean  more  bad  news?"  he  said,  hurrying 
forward  to  open  it. 

Simon  the  Jailer  entered. 

It  was  unnecessary  for  him  to  explain  that  he  was 
the  bearer  of  evil  tidings;  for  every  lineament  of  his 
honest  face  expressed  it.  Seeing  this  at  a  glance,  Jean 
Louvet  cried  out,  anxiously : 

"Don't  keep  me  in  suspense;  but  deliver  your  mes- 
sage at  once." 

Simon  advanced  a  few  steps,  and  then  stopped,  mo- 
tionless and  mute ;  yet  there  was  something  in  the  look 
he  gave  his  Chief  which  caused  the  latter  to  tremble. 

"Why  are  you  silent?"  he  asked,  in  agonized  tones. 
"For  mercy's  sake,  speak,  man !  Speak !" 

Thus  urgently  appealed  to,  Simon  shook  his  head 
sorrowfully,  and  replied,  in  a  voice  barely  above  a 
whisper : 

"Oh,  my  dear  Chief!  It  is  indeed  a  woeful  tale  I 
bring  you," — then,  pausing  for  a  moment  as  if  to 
collect  his  courage — 


2OO  THE  MAN    WHO  DARED. 

"Madamoiselle  Vauban  has  been  arrested!"  he  ex- 
claimed, despairingly. 

The  groan  that  escaped  Jean  Louvet  was  terrible  to 
hear.  For  a  moment  he  staggered,  and  seemed  about 
to  faint.  Then,  by  a  supreme  effort  of  the  will,  he 
summoned  all  his  faculties  to  his  aid,  and  asked,  with 
forced  composure: 

"Do  you  know  the  prison  in  which  she  is  confined  ?" 

"She  is  in  the  Luxembourg,"  answered  Simon,  "and 
under  my  charge,  thank  God !" 

"Then  we  need  not  despair  for  her  yet,"  said  Louvet, 
grimly. 

With  the  imperious  look  of  a  man,  who  is  deter- 
mined to  conquer  all  obstacles,  he  walked  firmly  to  his 
chair,  and  sat  down.  Then,  burying  his  face  in  his 
hands,  he  began  to  reflect  deeply;  observing  which, 
Simon  and  Frangois  withdrew  into  an  adjoining  apart- 
ment, while  Dr.  Narbonne  took  a  book  from  the  table, 
sat  down  in  an  armchair,  and  pretended  to  be  pro- 
foundly interested  in  its  contents. 

Thus  an  hour  passed  by. 

At  its  expiration,  a  third  knock  broke  the  silence. 

"That  must  be  Andre  at  last,"  said  Louvet,  wearily. 

This  proved  to  be  true. 

"Well  ?"  he  said,  half-hopelessly,  as  Andre  drew  near 
to  report  to  him;  for  he  was  fully  prepared  to  hear 
that  his  agent  had  failed  in  his  mission. 

"I  have  hastened  here  to  inform  you,  Chief,  that  I 
have  followed  your  directions,"  answered  Andre,  "and 
that  I  have  succeeded  in  discovering  the  meeting  place 
of  Robespierre's  enemies." 


EVENTS  CROWD  AND  JOSTLE.  2OI 

This  encouraging  announcement  aroused  Louvet  to 
instant  action. 

"At  what  hour,  and  where  do  they  meet?"  he  asked, 
eagerly. 

"The  time  is  twelve  to-night ;  the  place,  Representa- 
tive Carnot's  residence." 

Louvet  looked  at  his  watch. 

"It  is  now  a  little  after  eleven,"  he  said.  "So  I  must 
make  haste,  if  I  would  arrive  there  in  time." 

While  speaking,  he  hurried  into  the  room  where 
Simon  and  Frangois  were  conversing,  and  ordered  the 
latter  to  change  garments  with  him  at  once.  A  few 
skillful  applications  of  paint  to  his  countenance  com- 
pleted his  transformation;  and,  thus  disguised,  he  left 
the  Maison  Rousseau,  and  walked  rapidly  towards  the 
place  of  secret  meeting. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE  GAME  GROWS  EXCITING. 

BEFORE  M.  Carnot  and  his  friends  could  recover 
from  their  surprise  at  his  sudden  appearance,  the 
stranger,  noticing  the  fright  depicted  on  their  faces, 
advanced  boldly  into  the  room,  and  said,  reassuringly : 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,  for  I  am  a  friend.  Indeed,  I 
have  a  right  to  participate  in  your  deliberations,  as  my 
peril  is  fully  equal  to  your  own." 

"Don't  you  think,  monsieur,  it  is  rather  presumptu- 
ous for  you  to  intrude  where  you  are  not  wanted?" 
asked  Carnot,  coldly. 

The  stranger  turned  to  him  with  an  amused  smile. 

"It  certainly  would  be,  Citizen  Carnot,"  he  replied, 
with  seeming  effrontery,  "were  it  really  true  that  my 
presence  here  is  an  intrusion.  On  the  contrary,  I  would 
certainly  have  been  requested  to  attend  this  meeting, 
had  you  known  that  I  was  in  Paris,  and  where  to  find 
me." 

He  waited  a  moment  to  enjoy  the  surprise  this  re- 
mark produced  in  his  hearers,  and  then  exclaimed 
suddenly : 

"Look  this  way,  my  friends,  and  behold  who  I  am !" 

And,  drawing  a  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  he 
rubbed  the  paint  from  his  face,  and  revealed  the  hand- 
[202] 


THE  GAME   GROWS  EXCITING.  203 

some  and  resolute  countenance  of  their  fellow  Repre- 
sentative, Jean  Louvet. 

Exclamations  of  astonishment  were  heard  on  all 
sides.  M.  Carnot  sprang  up  and  accorded  him  a  hearty 
welcome;  while  the  others,  following  his  example, 
pressed  forward  to  embrace  him,  each  in  turn. 

"Why,  I  thought  you  had  fled  from  Paris!"  ex- 
claimed Tallien. 

"And  I,  that  you  had  committed  suicide,"  said 
Freron. 

"For  my  part,"  put  in  Barras,  "I  never  believed  that 
you  would  either  run  away,  or  kill  yourself ;  for  you  are 
much  too  brave  to  resort  to  either  measure." 

After  thanking  them  for  their  expressions  of  inter- 
est, Louvet  asked  suddenly: 

"Have  you  decided  upon  anything?" 

"We  were  discussing  a  certain  list  that  I  found  in 
Robespierre's  pocket,"  explained  Carnot,  inviting  him 
to  a  seat  beside  him  on  a  sofa.  "It  contains  the  names 
of  Representatives  whom  the  tyrant  has  selected  for  the 
guillotine.  But,  as  you  must  be  ignorant  of  its  exist- 
ence, I  will  relate  my  adventure  for  your  benefit." 

"That  will  be  unnecessary,  for  I  know  all  about  the 
list." 

"But  that  seems  scarcely  credible." 

"Nevertheless,  I  was  the  man  who  told  you  wher^i 
to  find  it,"  answered  Jean.  "To  be  explicit,  I  was  at 
Barrere's  dinner  in  the  character  of  a  lackey.  So  you 
see  I  know  as  much  as  any  citizen  here.  Therefore,  I 
ask  again  what  have  you  decided  to  do  ?" 


2O4  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

The  Representatives  looked  at  one  another  per- 
plexedly, and  remained  silent. 

"I  see  how  matters  stand,"  said  Louvet,  as  he  drew 
forth  his  watch.  "You  have  come  to  no  decision  at 
all,  notwithstanding  that  you  have  been  deliberating 
for  an  hour.  It  is  now  past  one  o'clock,  and  the  time 
at  your  disposal  is  very  limited." 

Then,  suddenly  changing  his  tone,  he  continued, 
with  a  countenance  illumined  with  ardor : 

"My  friends,  there  is  but  one  course  to  pursue.  You 
must  act  boldly  and  at  once.  The  least  delay  will  prove 
fatal ;  for  Robespierre  is  about  to  destroy  you.  If  you 
had  been  at  the  Jacobin  Club,  this  evening,  you  would 
have  known  how  imminent  is  your  peril.  Shall  I  tell 
you  what  happened  in  that  den  of  assassins?  Robes- 
pierre entered  the  hall,  and  strode  boldly  to  the  tribune. 
He  mounted  it  with  a  smile  on  his  crafty  face,  and  ad- 
dressed his  associates  with  his  usual  confidence.  He 
informed  them  that  it  was  his  intention  to  reappear  in 
the  Convention  to-morrow  morning;  denounce  his 
enemies  as  traitors  to  the  Republic,  and  demand  their 
accusation  and  execution.  Knowing  this,  would  not 
further  hesitation  on  our  part  be  a  crime?" 

He  paused  a  moment  to  cast  a  flashing  glance  over 
the  eager  faces  around  him,  and  then  resumed,  in  tones 
of  passionate  eloquence: 

"Shall  we  allow  this  vile  tyrant  to  destroy  us? 
Shall  we  permit  him  to  become  the  absolute  dictator  of 
the  Republic?  Or  shall  we  rise  up,  and  assert  our 
manhood,  by  denouncing  him  to  the  entire  nation,  and 
accusing  him  publicly  of  his  crimes?  You  may  say 


THE   GAME  GROWS   EXCITING.  2O$ 

that  this  would  be  a  desperate  move;  that  his  power  is 
so  great  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  break  it;  that 
all  those  who  participated  in  such  a  rash  attempt  would 
be  destroyed. 

"This  may  be  true ;  but  it  is  the  only  course  left  open 
to  us.  If  we  remain  quiet,  we  are  lost.  If  we  rise  up 
against  our  oppressor,  we  may  save  ourselves.  It  is 
the  only  hope  we  have,  and  it  would  be  folly  to  disre- 
gard it. 

"It  is  now  past  one  o'clock.  The  Convention  meets 
at  ten.  We  have,  therefore,  nearly  nine  hours  in  which 
to  act  .  Come,  which  shall  it  be — hesitation,  cowardice 
and  certain  death?  or  prompt  decision,  courage  and  a 
possible  hope  of  salvation?" 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  for  an  answer ;  for  his  words 
had  produced  a  marvelous  effect  upon  his  listeners. 
With  one  accord  they  crowded  round  him,  crying: 

"We  will  act!  We  will  combine  against  our  op- 
pressor! There  shall  be  no  vacillation;  but  we  will 
rise  up  boldly  and  defy  Robespierre.  Will  you,  Jean 
Louvet,  who  was  the  first  to  denounce  him,  be  our 
leader,  and  direct  us  how  to  act?" 

A  smile  of  satisfaction  illumined  Jean  Louvet's  face 
at  these  expressions  of  confidence;  and,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  he  drew  a  chair  to  the  library 
table,  and  assumed  immediate  direction  of  affairs. 

"How  many  names  were  on  the  list  ?"  he  asked,  with 
a  glance  at  M.  Carnot. 

"About  forty,  I  should  judge." 

"And  how  many  of  them  are  known?"  inquired 
Louvet. 


206  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

"I  had  only  time  to  read  my  own  name;  Tallien's, 
Freron's,  Bourdon's  and  those  of  Barras  and  Collet 
d'Herbois." 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  Louvet,  with  a  smile  indic- 
ative of  pleasure.  "That  leaves  about  thirty-four 
doubtful  names — a  sufficient  number  to  strike  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  at  least  a  hundred  Representatives, 
and  bring  them  over  to  our  side." 

He  spread  a  sheet  of  paper  before  him  on  the  table, 
picked  up  a  pen,  and  continued : 

"Now  let  us  make  a  list  of  names  of  Representatives 
who  are  likely  to  support  us.  How  many  members  can 
you  count  upon,  Citizen  Carnot?" 

"Besides  those  present,  not  more  than  six." 

"Their  names,  please?" 

Carnot  gave  them.    Jean  now  turned  to  Tallien. 

"And  how  many  supporters  have  you,  my  friend?" 

"I  think  I  can  rely  upon  ten,  or  twelve." 

And  Tallien  repeated  their  names  slowly,  as  Louvet 
wrote  them  down  upon  the  paper. 

He  asked  the  same  questions  of  all  the  others  present, 
and  then,  announcing  that  there  were  over  one  hundred 
names  in  all,  issued  the  following  command : 

"I  shall  rely  upon  you,  citizens,  to  notify  your  sup- 
porters of  their  peril  before  daylight.  They  must  each 
and  every  one  be  informed  of  Robespierre's  list  of  the 
doomed,  and  of  the  probability  that  their  names  are 
included  in  the  number.  The  uncertainty  will  be  more 
effectual  in  arousing  them  to  action,  than  even  the  most 
positive  knowledge.  They  must  all  be  made  to  promise 
that  they  will  support  you  in  the  Convention  tomorrow 


THE   GAME   GROWS   EXCITING.  2O/ 

in  denouncing,  and  accusing  Robespierre,  as  a  despot. 
Thus  a  new  and  formidable  party  will  spring  up,  like  a 
mushroom,  over  night,  and  the  tyrant  will  be  thunder- 
struck, and,  perhaps,  overthrown." 

Expressions  of  approbation  were  heard  on  all  sides, 
and  Tallien  suggested : 

"As  our  new  political  party  has  sprung  into  being 
in  the  month  of  Thermidor,  let  us  christen  ourselves 
and  followers  the  'Thermidorians.'  " 

This  proposition  meeting  "with  the  approval  of  all, 
the  new  party  was  from  that  time  so  entitled. 

"And  now,  my  friends,"  said  Louvet,  arising  from 
the  table,  "permit  me  to  resign  the  direction  of  your 
affairs  into  other  hands.  I  have  shown  you  how  to 
act,  and  can  do  nothing  further  to  assist  you,  excepting 
to  advise  you  to  disperse  immediately,  and  communi- 
cate with  your  friends.  Remember  that,  in  this  affair, 
promptness  is  of  the  utmost  importance.  If  you  follow 
out  my  directions,  and  act  with  daring  in  the  Conven- 
tion to-morrow,  you  may  possibly  save  your  heads; 
otherwise  you  will  lose  them  to  a  certainty.  Farewell, 
my  friends !  I  must  be  going ;  for  I  have  other  work 
to  do." 

"Do  you  mean  to  desert  us,  Louvet?"  asked  Bour- 
don, in  alarm. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  intend  to  place  myself  com- 
pletely at  your  mercy." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Carnot. 

Jean  Louvet  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
cast  a  majestic  look  upon  his  questioner. 

"That  I  have  such  confidence  in  the  fidelity  and 


/'i 


208  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

courage  of  my  friends,"  he  answered,  loftily,  "that  I 
am  going  to  the  Conciergerie  to  deliver  myself  up  as 
a  political  outlaw,  and  calmly  await  rescue  at  your 
hands." 

With  these  words,  he  waved  a  final  farewell  to  the 
company,  and,  heedless  of  their  protestations,  withdrew 
from  the  meeting. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

AMONG  THE  CONDEMNED. 

ON  leaving  Carnot's  residence,  Jean  Lou  vet  hurried 
back  to  the  Maison  Rousseau;  for  he  knew  that  time 
was  pressing.  It  was  close  to  three  in  the  morning, 
when  he  re-entered  the  Doctor's  study. 

The  worthy  man  was  sleeping  in  his  armchair,  but, 
aroused  by  the  entrance  of  his  Chief,  opened  his  eyes, 
sleepily  and  inquired: 

"Well,  what  news?" 

"I  have  accomplished  all  that  lay  in  my  power,"  re- 
sponded Louvet,  wearily,  "I  have  set  the  ball  rolling, 
and  it  remains  with  Robespierre's  enemies  in  the  Con- 
vention to  do  the  rest." 

"Do  you  believe  our  exiled  party  will  profit  by  the 
upheaval  ?" 

"Eventually,  yes,"  answered  Louvet ;  adding,  "When 
powerful  factions  disagree,  it  inevitably  results  in  the 
advancement  of  some  one  of  them.  But  where  are 
Andre,  Simon,  and  Frangois?  I  have  certain  direc- 
tions to  give  them  ere  I  depart." 

"Surely  you  do  not  intend  leaving  us  again?"  said 
Dr.  Narbonne. 

"Yes,  my  beloved  friend,"  answered  Louvet,  with  a 

[209] 


2IO  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

strange  softness  in  his  voice.  "I  am  going  away  pres- 
ently, and,  perhaps,  it  may  be  forever." 

"Forever?"  cried  the  Doctor  in  tones  of  alarm. 
"What  do  you  mean  ?  Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  the  Conciergerie  to  surrender  myself  to  the 
jailer." 

"By  all  that  is  sacred !"  exclaimed  Dr.  Narbonne, 
turning  suddenly  pale.  "What  prompts  you  to  such 
an  act  of  madness  ?" 

"A  firm  resolution  to  either  save  my  friend  Vauban, 
or  perish  with  him." 

"Oh,  my  beloved  master!" 

The  Doctor  could  say  no  more,  for  his  voice  was 
choked  with  sobs.  Louvet  embraced  him  tenderly,  and 
whispered  words  of  encouragement  in  his  ear.  Then, 
rising  to  his  feet,  he  again  inquired  for  his  agents. 

"They  are  resting  in  the  adjoining  chamber,"  said 
the  Doctor;  adding,  "Shall  I  call  them?" 

"No,"  answered  Louvet.    "I  can  do  that  myself." 

And,  going  over  to  the  door  communicating  with 
the  room  referred  to,  he  opened  it  softly  and  entered. 

Francois,  Simon  and  Andre  were  reclining  in  three 
armchairs,  sleeping  in  their  clothes.  It  was  evident 
that  they  were  greatly  fatigued  with  the  onerous  work 
they  had  recently  performed,  for  their  slumber  was 
heavy. 

"Poor  comrades !"  muttered  Louvet,  regarding  them 
with  deep  affection,  "It  pains  me  to  awaken  you;  but 
it  cannot  be  avoided.  God  alone  knows  when  you  can 
sleep  again !" 

Advancing  quickly  across  the  room,  he  aroused  them 


AMONG  THE   CONDEMNED.  211 

each  in  turn  ;  and,  when  they  were  sufficiently  awake  to 
comprehend  his  words,  informed  them  of  his  intentions. 
All  three  protested  vigorously  against  his  going  to  the 
Conciergerie ;  but  they  spent  their  breath  in  vain;  for 
he  gave  them  plainly  to  understand  that  his  determina- 
tion was  irrevocable,  and  that  no  argument  could  per- 
suade him  to  change  it. 

"And  now  that  you  know  my  mind  on  that  point," 
he  added,  "please  listen  to  my  final  instructions :  You, 
Frangois,  have  this  mission  to  perform :  As  soon  as 
Paris  is  awake,  go  to  Jacques  the  Blacksmith,  and  en- 
deavor to  gain  his  support  to  our  cause.  Argue  with 
him  in  this  fashion :  No  true  friend  of  the  Republic  can 
deny  that  the  National  Convention  represents  the 
people ;  for  its  members  were  all  elected  by  the  people's 
votes.  He  will,  undoubtedly,  agree  to  this.  Then  in- 
form him  that  his  beloved  Robespierre  intends  to 
paralyze  the  Convention,  by  sending  a  large  number 
of  its  members  to  the  guillotine.  If  he  denies  this,  ask 
him  to  visit  the  Convention  Hall  to-day,  and  listen  to 
Robespierre's  speech. 

"Insist  that  Robespierre  is  ambitious,  and  is  plan- 
ning to  override  the  people  through  their  Represen- 
tatives in  the  Convention,  and  establish  himself  as  the 
supreme  dictator  of  France.  He  believes  you  to  be  a 
true  patriot,  and  will,  undoubtedly,  be  influenced  by 
what  you  say.  As  he  is  a  power  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine,  he  will  prove  a  friend  worth  having." 

He  next  turned  to  Simon  the  Jailer. 

"My  directions  to  you,  comrade,  will  be  very  brief," 
he  said,  "I  merely  require  you  to  inform  Made- 


212  THE   MAN   WHO   DARFD. 

moiselle  Vauban  that  I  have  done  my  best  to  save  her 
father.  Tell  her  that  I  am  still  working  in  his  behalf, 
and  that  I  know  of  her  incarceration  in  the  Luxem- 
bourg. Assure  her  that  I  am  not  without  hope  of 
success;  but,  if  failure  should  be  the  result  of  my 
plans,  I  will  perish  with  those  whom  I  have  struggled 
to  rescue." 

To  Andre  the  Barber  he  gave  these  directions : 

"Your  acquaintance  with  Robespierre  and  his  friends 
will  doubtless  enable  you  to  gain  much  valuable  in- 
formation concerning  their  intentions.  If  you  learn 
anything  of  importance,  carry  the  news  immediately 
to  M.  Tallien,  for  he  is  the  shrewdest  and  most  dar- 
ing of  all  Robespierre's  enemies.  And  now,"  he  added, 
with  an  expression  of  infinite  relief,  "disguise  is  no 
longer  necessary.  I  will  change  suits  with  you,  Fran- 
c,ois,  and,  in  my  own  character,  as  a  Representative  of 
the  people,  go  forth  to  challenge  fate." 

It  required  but  a  few  minutes  to  effect  the  transfer 
of  raiment  that  converted  this  man  of  mystery  into 
Representative  Jean  Louvet.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
transformation,  he  embraced  his  comrades,  and  left 
the  Maison  Rousseau,  perhaps,  forever. 

On  reaching  the  Conciergerie,  between  the  hours  of 
six  and  seven,  he  requested  an  interview  with  the  chief 
jailer,  and  was  shown  into  a  small  office  to  await  the 
great  man's  convenience. 

In  order  that  the  time  might  pass  less  drearily,  he 
amused  himself  by  studying  the  little  room.  But  one 
window  lighted  it,  a  long  bench  extended  along  the 
wall  behind  him,  and  a  high  desk  against"  the  wall 


AMONG  THE  CONDEiMNED.  213 

opposite.  Two  sickly-looking  clerks,  mounted  upon 
tall  stools,  were  at  work  behind  the  desk,  pausing 
at  intervals  to  cast  an  inquiring  look  in  his  direction. 

At  the  expiration  of  half  an  hour,  the  chief  keeper 
of  the  prison  swaggered  into  the  office;  and,  casting 
a  contemptuous  look  upon  his  caller,  asked  gruffly: 

"Well,  what  is  your  business?" 

Louvet  answered  mildly : 

"I  am  Representative  Jean  Louvet,  who  was  accused 
some  days  ago  by  the  Convention.  I  have  come  to 
surrender  myself  as  a  prisoner." 

"Have  you  been  tried  and  condemned?" 

"Not  as  yet,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then  why  do  you  come  here?"  snarled  the  jailer. 
"Don't  you  know  that  this  prison  is  only  intended  for 
those  who  have  been  condemned  to  the  guillotine?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  complacent  answer ;  "but  as  the 
Convention  offered  a  price  for  my  capture,  I  con- 
sidered it  equivalent  to  condemnation." 

A  gleam  of  avarice  shot  from  the  jailer's  eyes. 

"So  you  came  here  that  I  might  gain  the  reward?" 
he  asked. 

Louvet  read  the  man's  thoughts  on  the  instant. 

"When  a  fugitive  voluntarily  surrenders  himself," 
he  answered,  quietly,  "the  question  of  a  reward  is 
eliminated.  However,"  he  added,  indifferently,  "if  you 
are  really  anxious  for  the  money,  I  am  perfectly  will- 
ing to  help  you  obtain  it." 

"Tell  me  how?"  cried  the  jailer,  eagerly. 

"Why,  the  affair  is  simple  enough,"  remarked  Lou- 
vet. "By  admitting  me  to  your  prison,  you  can  log- 
ically claim  to  have  captured  me  in  the  streets,  bring- 


214  THE  MAN  WHO 

ing  me  hither  for  safe  keeping.  Afterward,  I  have 
only  to  corroborate  your  statement,  and  you  re- 
ceive the  Convention's  reward." 

"And  what  does  that  amount  to?" 

"Some  five  thousand  francs,  I  believe." 

During  this  colloquy,  the  two  sickly  clerks  paused 
in  their  work  to  listen.  At  its  conclusion,  the  jailer 
turned  upon  them  gruffly,  and  sneered : 

"Oh,  never  fear,  mes  enfants!  you'll  get  your  hush 
money." 

Then,  beckoning  Louvet  to  follow,  he  led  the  way 
into  the  prison. 

That  part  of  the  Conciergerie  into  which  Louvet 
was  thrust  consisted  of  a  long  hall,  or  corridor,  flanked 
on  both  sides  by  rows  of  cells.  At  the  time  of  his 
arrival,  the  prisoners  had  just  finished  breakfast,  and 
were  enjoying  the  hour  of  exercise  allowed  them  by 
the  regulations. 

When  he  had  seen  the  cell  he  was  to  occupy,  he 
was  permitted  to  mingle  with  the  unhappy  beings, 
until  the  time  for  locking  them  in  their  narrow  cham- 
bers should  arrive. 

He  computed  that  there  were  about  seventy-five 
persons  in  the  corridor,  of  all  ages  and  conditions  of 
life.  Some  were  sitting  on  board  benches;  some 
were  pacing  to  and  fro,  their  heads  bowed  and  their 
eyes  fixed  despairingly  upon  the  ground ;  others  stood 
in  groups,  conversing  gravely  in  awed  undertones; 
while  a  few,  too  weak  to  control  the  agony  of  their 
souls,  were  weeping  and  wailing  lamentably. 

Searching  eagerly  among  these  poor  doomed 
creatures,  Jean  Louvet  finally  discovered  his  friend, 


AMONG  THE  CONDEMNED. 

Vauban,  sitting  on  a  bench  with  a  little  girl  upon  his 
knee.  He  was  speaking  to  her  in  a  gentle  tone  of 
voice,  and  with  a  radiant  smile  upon  his  face,  that 
rendered  its  expression  almost  angelic. 

On  seeing  Louvet  approaching,  a  cloud  passed  over 
his  brow,  and  his  voice  trembled,  as  he  greeted  him. 

"So  you  also  have  been  condemned,  Citizen  Lou- 
vet  ?  Believe  me,  I  am  deeply  grieved  to  see  you  here." 

Louvet  sat  down  by  his  side,  and  began  speaking  in 
rapid  undertones. 

"Yes,  I  am  here ;  but  I  am  not  condemned  as  yet.  I 
have  come,  M.  Vauban,  to  save  you,  if  I  can,  or  else 
to  perish  with  you.  Ask  no  questions;  but  listen  at- 
tentively to  what  I  say.  A  tempest  will  break  out  in 
the  Convention  this  morning,  which  may  result  in  the 
overthrow  of  Robespierre.  In  that  case  we  may  be 
saved  yet,  if  we  can  gain  but  a  day's  time.  Are  you 
to  be  sent  to  the  guillotine  to-day?" 

M.  Vauban  bowed  his  head  in  assent. 

"At  what  hour?" 

"The  tumbrils  leave  here  at  two  this  afternoon." 

A  despairing  groan  issued  from  Louvet's  lips. 

"Alas!"  he  cried  wildly,  "what  can  I  do  to  save 
you?" 

"Do  not  concern  yourself  on  my  account,  my  good 
friend,"  returned  Vauban,  cheerfully,  "I  assure  you, 
I  am  perfectly  resigned  to  my  fate." 

"Ah,  but  Mademoiselle  Louise,  your  daughter,"  said 
Jean  in  tones  of  anguish ;  "she  is  not  resigned." 

M.  Vauban's  lips  trembled,  and  great  tears  coursed 
down  his  cheeks. 


2l6  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"Oh,  why  do  you  remind  me  of  her  ?"  he  moaned. 

"Because  I  wish  to  inspire  you  with  resolution  to 
save  yourself  for  her  sake,"  replied  Louvet. 

"Is  such  a  thing  possible?" 

"If  I  can  delay  your  departure  for  the  guillotine 
until  tomorrow — Yes !"  was  the  resolute  answer. 

"But  how  about  your  own  case?"  asked  M.  Vauban. 

"I  shall  not  be  sent  to  the  guillotine  today,  as  I 
have  not  yet  been  sentenced." 

"I  understand,"  said  Vauban,  reflectively.  "You 
mean  that  you  have  not  yet  appeared  before  the  Rev- 
olutionary Tribunal  to  be  submitted  to  the  parody  of 
a  trial,  as  I  was  yesterday.  Why,  the  wretches  con- 
demned me  without  regard  to  evidence.  It  was  mon- 
strous !  Fiendish !" 

At  that  instant  two  jailers  entered  the  corridor  to 
announce  that  the  hour  for  exercise  had  expired.  The 
prisoners  returned  to  their  cells,  and  the  two  friends 
were  compelled  to  part.  As  Vauban  was  embracing 
Jean  Louvet,  perhaps,  for  the  last  time,  he  whispered 
anxiously : 

"Oh,  if  we  could  contrive  to  save  this  child,  my 
friend !" 

They  were  all  three  standing  at  the  time,  and  the 
little  girl  was  clinging  to  M.  Vauban's  coat-tails,  as  if 
appealing  to  him  for  protection. 

"Can  you  manage  to  conceal  her  in  your  cell  ?"  Jean 
whispered,  eagerly. 

"Perhaps." 

"Then  I'll  do  my  best  to  save  you  both." 

And,  with  this  parting  promise,  they  separated. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

CHALK    MARKS    THAT    DISAPPEARED. 

ON  entering  the  dungeon  allotted  to  him,  Jean  was 
surprised  that  his  jailer  failed  to  fasten  its  door.  It  is 
true  he  closed  it  after  him,  but  he  did  not  pause  to 
turn  the  key  in  the  lock. 

Had  he  neglected  to  lock  the  doors  of  the  other 
cells  also?  If  so,  it  might  be  possible  to  visit  the  one 
occupied  by  Vauban,  and  continue  their  conversation. 

While  endeavoring  to  account  for  the  jailer's  neg- 
ligence, Jean  remembered  that  the  fellow  was  greatly 
under  the  influence  of  liquor,  when  he  came  into  the 
corridor,  and  in  no  condition  to  perform  his  duties 
properly.  This  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  consider- 
ing that  he  was  brought  into  daily  contact  with  those 
who  were  on  their  way  to  death,  but  was  rather  an 
evidence  that  he  was  not  altogether  without  some 
human  sympathy. 

Approaching  his  cell  door,  Jean  opened  it  cau- 
tiously a  few  inches,  and  peered  through  the  crack. 
He  observed  two  jailers,  conversing  together,  at  one 
end  of  the  corridor ;  but  they  were  too  far  distant  for 
him  to  hear  what  they  said. 

All  the  doors  on  the  opposite  side  were  tightly 
closed,  and,  as  they  were  in  charge  of  the  drunken 

[217] 


2l8  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

jailer's  comrade,  were  probably  locked  also.  The 
doors  on  his  side  he  was  unable  to  see.  He  knew  that 
M.  Vauban  occupied  the  third  cell  to  the  right,  and 
reasoned  that  it  would  not  be  very  difficult  to  reach 
it,  if  he  should  select  a  time  when  the  jailers  were  not 
looking  his  way.  So  he  kept  his  eye  constantly  glued 
to  the  crack  to  watch  for  such  an  opportunity. 

While  he  was  thus  occupied,  they  left  their  position ; 
and,  still  continuing  their  conversation,  slowly  ap- 
proached him.  As  they  drew  near,  he  observed  that 
both  were  intoxicated.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came, 
until  they  were  almost  opposite  his  cell,  when  they 
paused  in  their  walk  to  argue,  after  the  fashion  of 
drunkards. 

"Be  as  stubborn  as  you  like,"  said  the  jailer,  who 
had  charge  of  the  cells  opposite;  "but  I  insist  that 
every  mother's  son  of  them  will  be  sent  to  the  guillo- 
tine to-day." 

To  this  Louvet's  jailer  replied,  in  a  voice  thick  from 
drink : 

"It's  not  me  that's  stubborn,  my  man,  but  you. 
D'ye  mean  to  tell  me  that  there's  tumbrils  enough  to 
cart  off  so  many?" 

"They'll  cart  off  what  they  can,  and  come  back  for 
the  rest,"  was  the  obstinate  reply. 

"Something  never  heard  of  since  I've  been  in  charge 
here.  So  you  may  believe  me,  when  I  tell  you  that 
some  heads  will  be  spared  till  to-morrow." 

"But  who's  to  decide  which  shall  stay  behind?" 

"How  stupid  you  are!"  exclaimed  Louvet's  jailer, 


CHALK  MARKS  THAT  DISAPPEARED.  219 

in  tones  of  contempt.  "Why,  how  do  they  decide  in 
the  other  prisons?" 

"1  confess  I  don't  know.    Can  you  tell  me  ?" 

"To  be  sure  I  can,  you  blockhead.  The  chief  jailer 
decides,  who  shall  go,  and  who  shall  remain,  and 
makes  out  a  list  of  the  former.  Then  he  takes  a 
peep  at  the  jail  register;  finds  out  the  numbers  of 
the  cells  they  occupy;  writes  them  down  opposite 
their  names ;  and  hands  the  list  to  an  understrapper — 
say  you,  or  me,  for  instance,  With  this  list  in  his 
hand,  the  understrapper  goes  from  door  to  door,  with 
a  piece  of  chalk. 

"Say  the  first  number  on  his  list  is  five,  for  instance. 
He  knows  that  the  name  following  it  is  that  of  a  pris- 
oner condemned  to  die.  So  he  marks  a  cross  on  the 
door  with  his  chalk,  and  passes  on  to  the  next  number 
on  the  list.  He  makes  a  cross  on  this  door  also,  and 
then  passes  on  to  the  next,  and  next,  until  he  has 
chalked  every  cell  whose  number  is  on  the  list." 

"And  what  happens  after?" 

"Why,  he  goes  about  his  business,  and  meddles  no 
more  in  the  matter.  But,  along  in  the  afternoon,  the 
tumbrils  come  rumbling  up,  and  then  a  second  jailer 
comes  round,  and  examines  each  door  for  the  chalk 
mark.  Where  he  finds  one,  the  inmate  of  that  cell 
must  go  off  with  him ;  the  others  he  leaves  alone." 

While  listening  to  this  dialogue,  Jean  Louvet's 
heart  beat  high  with  hope ;  for,  if  the  jailer  spoke  the 
truth,  there  was  a  chance  yet  for  M.  Vauban.  It  was 
possible  that  he  might  be  among  those  reserved  for 
execution  on  the  morrow,  and  thus  an  entire  day 


22O  THE  MAN   WHO  DARED. 

would  be  gained.  In  the  meantime,  the  coup  'd'etat 
he  had  planned  might  possibly  succeed,  and  Robes- 
pierre's enemies  be  released  from  the  prisons. 

Indeed,  if  such  a  fortunate  event  should  happen,  he 
knew  that  he  himself  would  be  among  the  first 
rescued;  for  he  had  informed  the  Thermidorians 
whither  he  was  going. 

But  would  the  coup  d'etat  succeed?  Would  Robes- 
pierre's downfall  be  accomplished?  Or,  even  if  these 
things  came  to  pass,  would  M.  Vauban  be  spared 
until  the  morrow? 

These  questions  filled  him  with  the  gravest  anxiety. 

Creeping  back  into  his  cell,  he  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  his  cot;  and,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands, 
gave  way  to  gloomy  forebodings. 

He  had  entered  on  this  game  of  politics  for  the  sake 
of  the  woman  he  loved.  lie  had  played  daringly, 
desperately,  against  the  most  tremendous  odds.  Yet, 
notwithstanding  the  political  storm  he  had  succeeded 
in  raising  against  Robespierre,  the  possibility  of  his 
winning  appeared  inconceivable. 

As  the  game  stood  at  present,  the  chances  were  de- 
cidedly against  him.  To  win,  he  must  first  of  all, 
save  M.  Vauban ;  yet  Vauban  was  on  the  road  to 
death.  Again,  he  must  destroy  the  tyrant,  Robes- 
pierre; yet  he  doubted  the  ability  of  the  Convention 
to  do  so. 

Lastly — and  this  thought  was  the  most  terrible — 
the  lovely  woman,  for  whose  sake  he  was  staking  his 
all,  was  at  that  moment  in  prison,  with  the  apparition 
of  the  guillotine  overshadowing  her. 


,.  ..'-•'         CHALK   MARKS   THAT   DISAPPEARED.  221 

Ever  since  he  had  engaged  in  this  struggle,  he  had 
become  hourly  more  deeply  in  love  with  her.  If  he 
had  before  worshipped  her  at  a  distance,  he  now  adored 
her  with  all  the  passion  of  his  nature.  To  return  to  her 
defeated  was  impossible;  so  he  had  resolved  to  link 
his  fate  irrevocably  with  hers. 

If  he  could  save  his  beloved  and  her  father,  he  would 
live;  otherwise  he  would  perish  with  them.  So,  after 
making  his  last  desperate  effort  for  their  salvation,  he 
had  voluntarily  united  himself  with  their  destiny. 

Suddenly  the  door  of  his  cell  was  flung  open,  and 
his  jailer  commanded  him  to  come  forth.  He  obeyed 
mechanically. 

"Is  it  not  rather  early?"  he  asked,  as  he  stepped 
out  into  the  corridor. 

"Early  for  what  ?"  growled  the  jailer,  stupefied  with 
drink. 

"For  the  prisoners  to  be  taken  to  the  guillotine." 

"Humph !  I  didn't  come  here  for  that  purpose, 
but  to  put  chalk  marks  on  the  doors  of  the  con- 
demned. You  see  there  ain't  enough  tumbrils  to  carry 
them  all,  so  some  must  wait  over  until  to-morrow." 

"But  why  did  you  call  me  forth  ?" 

"To  go  before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal.  They 
have  been  told  about  your  capture,  and  intend  to  dis- 
pose of  your  case  at  once." 

And  the  drunken  jailer  began  to  consult  a  paper  he 
held  in  his  hand. 

"By  the  devil's  horns  and  tail !"  he  mumbled,  as  his 
head  swayed  forward.  "I  can't  make  out  a  single 


222  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

figure  on  this  cursed  list.  There's  a  mist  before  my 
eyes,  and  they  all  run,  helter-skelter,  together." 

"What  is  the  nature  of  the  list?"  asked  Jean,  with 
assumed  indifference. 

"It's  the  names  of  the  poor  devils  that  must  go  to 
St.  Guillotine  this  afternoon." 

"Are  you  putting  chalk  marks  on  the  doors  of  their 
cells?" 

"Yes,  I  mark  'em  with  a  cross,"  mumbled  the  jailer. 

While  this  short  colloquy  was  taking  place,  Louvet 
looked  over  the  jailer's  shoulder  upon  the  slip  of 
paper  that  trembled  in  his  grasp.  All  at  once  his  face 
became  deathly  pale,  and  a  convulsive  gasp  escaped 
him.  The  besotted  jailer  raised  his  glassy  eyes  to  his 
face,  and  inquired : 

"Why,  what  ails  you,  man?" 

"Oh,  nothing  serious,"  replied  Louvet,  recovering 
himself  with  an  effort.  "A  sudden  faintness  passed 
over  me,  but  I  feel  better  now." 

"Humph!"  and  the  jailer  renewed  his  examination 
of  the  paper. 

But  what  had  wrung  that  agonized  gasp  from  his 
prisoner? 

It  was  this:  While  examining  the  list,  over  the 
jailer's  shoulder,  his  eyes  had  suddenly  detected  the 
name  of  M.  Vauban,  and  the  number  of  the  cell  he 
occupied.  The  horror,  that  this  discovery  aroused  in 
him,  magnified  his  vision,  so  that  his  friend's  name 
seemed  to  cover  the  entire  sheet  of  paper ; 


CHALK   MARKS   THAT  DISAPPEARED.  223 

"CELL  NO.  52— REPRESENTATIVE 
ALPHONSE  VAUBAN." 

But,  while  it  magnified  his  vision,  it,  at  the  same 
time,  clarified  his  intellect .  Supreme  emergencies 
often  produce  this  effect  on  energetic  minds. 

M.  Vauban's  cell  was,  as  we  already  know,  but 
three  doors  to  the  right  of  Louvet's.  At  any  instant, 
the  eyes  of  the  drunkard  might  clear,  and  the  writing 
become  decipherable  to  his  sight.  Then,  with  a  few 
short  steps,  and  two  strokes  of  the  chalk,  he  would 
consign  M.  Vauban  to  the  guillotine. 

What  was  to  be  done? 

There  are  times  in  every  man's  life  when  the  reason 
acts  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  Within  the  com- 
pass of  a  few  seconds,  a  thousand  thoughts  and 
projects  flash  in  succession  before  the  tribunal  of  the 
judgment,  and  are  rejected,  or  accepted,  with  marvel- 
ous intuition. 

Presently  the  man  acts,  and  the  world  exclaims, 
"He  did  the  right  thing  on  the  spur  of  the  moment," 
because  the  quick  logic  that  prompted  his  performance 
is  inconceivable. 

This  happened  in  the  case  of  Jean  Louvet.  The 
imminent  peril  that  threatened  his  friend  prompted 
him  to  a  wondrous  activity  of  thought;  and,  before 
two  seconds  had  passed  by,  he  had  decided  upon  a 
course  to  pursue. 

"My  good  citizen,"  he  said  to  the  jailer.  "I  don't 
wonder  that  you  cannot  read  the  writing;  it  is  so 
dark  here  that  even  the  sharpest  eyes  woijld  be  severely 


224  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

tested.  Why  don't  you  go  over  to  that  window, 
where  it  is  lighter?" 

"You're  right/'  returned  the  other,  with  a  maudlin 
shake  of  the  head.  "Why  blarst  my  eyes!  your 
advice  is  so  simple,  I  must  be  a  blamed  idiot  not  to 
have  thought  of  it  before." 

With  these  words,  he  staggered  toward  the  end  of 
the  cortidor,  and,  holding  the  paper  close  to  his  eyes, 
was  presently  absorbed  in  its  contemplation. 

While  he  was  so  engaged,  Jean  Louvet.  tiptoed 
stealthily  to  Vauban's  cell,  and  threw  the  door  wide 
open.  As  it  turned  outward  on  its  hinges,  this  ma- 
neuvre  left  its  inside  surface  exposed.  Fortunately 
the  cell  doors  in  the  Conciergerie  were  numbered  on 
both  sides  ;  nevertheless,  the  dark  interior  of  Vauban's 
chamber  was  visible,  rendering  the  success  of  Louvet's 
stratagem  very  doubtful. 

"What!"  exclaimed  M.  Vauban.  "Have  the  tum- 
brils arrived  so  early?" 

"Hush !"  whispered  Louvet,  thrusting  his  head 
through  the  open  door.  "Not  a  sound,  or  you  are 
lost!" 

Then  he  stole  back  to  his  former  position.  Scarcely 
had  he  reached  it,  when  he  heard  the  jailer's  voice 
cry  out,  triumphantly : 

"Hurrah  for  the  blessed  daylight !  I'm  able  to  read 
the  writing  at  last." 

And  he  came  staggering  up  the  corridor,  muttering 
— "Cell  No.  52 — 52 — 52" — as  if  to  impress  the  figures 
upon  his  memory. 

Presently  he  arrived  before  the  door  of  M.  Vauban's 


"PUT    THE    CROSS   ON    IT     FIRST,    MY    FRIEND,"    HE    SAID 
PERSUASIVELY,    "  OR     YOU     MAY    GET     YOURSELF    IN 

TROUBLE." — Page  225. 


CHALK   MARKS  THAT   DISAPPEARED.  22$ 

cell,  and  was  amazed  to  find  it  open.  He  was  about 
to  close  it,  when  Louvet  laid  a  detaining  hand  upon 
his  arm. 

"Put  the  cross  on  it  first,  my  friend,"  he  said,  per- 
suasively, "or  you  may  get  yourself  in  trouble."* 

The  drunken  jailer  loked  up  into  his  face,  with  be- 
wilderment in  his  bleared  eyes,  and,  seeing  there  an 
expression  of  apparent  solicitude  on  his  behalf,  marked 
a  cross  upon  the  door,  and  slammed  it  to.  Fearful 
lest  he  might  discover,  drunk  as  he  was,  that  his  chalk 
marks  were  no  longer  visible,  Louvet  hurried  him  on 
to  the  cell  of  his  next  victim.  After  he  had  gone  the 
rounds  of  the  prison,  the  young  man  remarked : 

"Don't  you  think  it  would  be  well  to  lock  the  doors 
under  your  charge  ?  It  is  apparent  that  you  have  for- 
gotten to  do  so.'' 

The  jailer  cast  upon  him  a  look  of  maudlin  gratitude. 

"Why,  what  a  famous  good  fellow  you  are!"  he 
exclaimed.  "Blast  me,  if  it  ain't  a  shame  to  send  such 
a  man  to  the  guillotine !" 

Nevertheless,  after  repeating  the  rounds  of  the 
prison,  and  locking  the  doors  he  had  formerly  neglected 
to  secure,  he  seized  this  "famous  good  fellow"  by  the 
arm,  and  hurried  him  away  to  the  carriage  that  was 
in  waiting  to  convey  him  to  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal. 

*  Thomas  Paine,  the  author  of  the  "  Rights  of  Man,"  was  a 
member  of  the  National  Convention  of  the  French  Republic 
during  the  French  Revolution.  He  was  arrested  and  impris- 
oned in  the  Luxembourg,  where  he  escaped  death  upon  the 
guillotine  in  the  exact  manner  described  above,. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  SOUNDING  BOARD  CEASES  TO  RESPOND. 

WHILE  on  his  way  to  trial,  Jean  Louvet  was  com- 
pelled to  pass  by  the  hall  of  the  National  Convention. 
Crowds  of  people,  vainly  seeking  admittance,  were 
surging  round  the  doors,  apparently  deaf  to  the  as- 
surances of  the  gendarmes  on  duty  that  the  galleries 
were  already  overcrowded. 

Louvet's  eyes  sparkled,  as  he  gazed  upon  the  build- 
ing; for  he  knew  that  a  tremendous  battle  was  raging 
within  its  walls,  upon  the  result  of  which  the  fate  of 
France  depended.  He  strained  his  ears  eagerly  to 
catch  the  sounds  of  a  tumult;  but  heard  nothing  in- 
dicative of  confusion. 

Several  times,  however,  when  the  clamor  of  the 
crowd  abated,  he  heard  a  voice,  as  harsh  as  a  screech- 
owl's,  protesting  querulously  to  the  assembled  Rep- 
resentatives. 

"It  is  Robespierre's,"  he  muttered,  anxiously;  and 
passed  on  to  appear  before  his  judges. 

He  was  right. 

Among  the  first  to  enter  the  Convention  Hall,  on 

that  memorable  morning,  was  the  tyrant,  with  a  throng 

of  his  Jacobin  friends  at  his  heels.     His  partisans, 

forewarned,    already    packed    the    galleries,    and    he 

[226] 


THE   SOUNDING   BOARD   CEASES  TO   RESPOND.   22/ 

glanced  up  at  them  with  a  smile  of  triumph,  as  he 
walked  briskly  down  the  aisle  to  his  seat. 

As  he  had  been  absent  from  the  meetings  for  a 
considerable  length  of  time,  his  reappearance  was 
greeted  with  loud  cheers. 

Settling  himself  down  in  his  chair,  he  calmly  awaited 
the  arrival  of  his  opponents,  confidently  expecting  to 
destroy  them  at  a  blow.  Presently  they  began  to  ap- 
pear, by  twos  and  threes,  not  gesticulating  and  chat- 
tering as  was  their  wont,  but  silent  and  somber,  going 
directly  to  their  appointed  places,  the  moment  they 
entered  the  hall. 

Could  they  have  been  informed  of  his  intended  de- 
nunciation ? 

With  a  sidelong  glance,  he  studied  the  face  of 
Barras.  There  was  an  undoubted  defiance  in  its  ' 
expression.  Then  he  threw  a  glance  in  Tallien's  di- 
rection. His  whole  attitude  was  audacious  and  in- 
trepid. Freron's  countenance  was  pale  and  deter- 
mined; Bourdon's  reckless;  while  Collot  d'Herbois 
frowned  gloomily. 

At  last  President  Thuriot  mounted  to  his  chair  on 
the  platform,  and  formally  opened  the  session. 

Awaiting  the  first  lull  in  the  proceedings,  Robes- 
pierre left  his  seat,  and  deliberately  mounted  into  the 
tribune.  It  could  be  seen  that  his  jaundiced  face  was 
clouded  with  an  ominous  gloom.  Pausing  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  cast  an  imperious  glance  over  the  assem- 
blage, he  drew  a  carefully  prepared  manuscript  from 
his  pocket,  and  began  reading  from  it  in  a  voice  boding 
of  death  to  many  of  his  hearers. 


228  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Judge  whether  his  enemies  listened  with  interest.. 

In  accents  unmelodious  and  grating,  he  sounded 
the  note  of  warning.  He  laid  stress  on  the  degenerate 
condition  of  the  republican  spirit  among  his  confreres. 
He  accused  the  Moderates  of  corruption,  and  asserted 
that  the  Committees  were  infected.  There  was  back- 
sliding on  this  hand,  and  on  that.  As  for  himself,  he 
declared,  he  was  ready  to  die  at  a  moment's  warning, 
should  the  Republic  require  his  life.  But  his  patriot- 
ism and  honesty  were  well  known. 

Finally,  with  an  outburst  of  passionate  eloquence, 
he  demanded  the  death  of  all  traitors.  It  was  for  their 
punishment  that  the  guillotine  had  been  established, 
and  to  the  guillotine  it  was  just  that  they  should  go. 
He  poured  forth  a  perfect  torrent  of  denunciations, 
glancing  significantly  at  his  enemies  in  turn,  and  con- 
cluded by  calling  upon  all  honest  Representatives  to 
rally  round  him,  and  weed  out  the  traitors  from  their 
midst. 

When  he  had  finished,  he  cast  an  expectant  glance 
about,  awaiting  the  applause  which  had  hitherto  been 
accorded  to  his  speeches.  For  the  terrorized  Con- 
vention had  heretofore  responded,  like  a  sounding- 
board,  to  every  utterance  that  left  his  lips. 

This  time,  however,  the  sounding  board  was  silent. 

For  a  moment  a  stillness  as  of  death  reigned.  TTien 
a  few  of  his  Jacobin  friends  raised  a  faint  cheer  of 
approbation,  which  was  continued  by  his  partisans  in 
the  galleries. 

Robespierre  descended  from  the  tribune,  livid  with 
anger  and  dismay ;  and,  returning  to  his  seat,  glared 


THE  SOUNDING  BOARD   CEASES  TO  RESPOND.   22Q 

defiance  at  his  opponents.  At  this  juncture,  Repre- 
sentative Lecointre,  fearing  the  tyrant's  vengeance, 
rose  insidiously  in  his  place,  and  moved  that  Robes- 
pierre's speech  should  be  printed,  and  sent  to  the  de- 
partments, in  accordance  with  established  usage. 

What  could  poor  Thuriot  do  but  put  this  motion  to 
a  vote? 

Alas,  for  the  cowardice  of  human  nature!  Con- 
fronted with  this  unexpected  dilemma,  the  Thermido- 
rians  were  seized  with  panic ;  and,  joining  their  voices 
to  the  acclamations  of  Robespierre's  friends,  voted  for 
the  printing  of  the  speech. 

This  indorsement  of  the  tyrant's  policy  would  have 
sealed  the  fate  of  his  enemies,  then  and  there,  had  there 
not  been  among  them  one  brave  man  to  stem  the  tide 
of  battle.  Realizing  that  he  was  irrevocably  doomed, 
and  that  consequently  nothing  could  be  lost  by  a 
violent  self-defense,  Representative  Cambon  sprang  to 
his  feet,  shouting  in  tones  that  shook  the  hall : 

"One  single  man  paralyzes  the  Convention,  and  that 
man  is  Robespierre." 

Inspired  by  Cambon's  audacity,  the  Thermidorians 
shook  off  their  terror.  In  rapid  succession,  their 
leaders  sprang  up  and  assailed  the  amazed  tyrant  with 
more  and  more  vigorous  blows. 

A  tumult  filled  the  hall. 

Aware  that  the  charm  of  his  invincibility  was  gone, 
Robespierre  cast  frightened  looks  around;  and, 
with  the  political  sagacity  that  characterized  him,  saw 
in  an  instant  the  peril  of  his  position.  It  was  not, 
however,  until  a  second  vote  on  his  fatal  speech  had 


230  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

been  taken,  and  the  resolution  to  print  it  rescinded 
by  a  large  majority,  that  he  fully  comprehended  the 
strength  of  the  new  party  which  had  sprung  up  over 
night  to  oppose  him. 

Mute  with  alarm,  he  immediately  left  the  Conven- 
tion, and  hastened  to  his  friends  in  the  Club  of  Ja- 
cobins. There,  he  called  a  meeting  of  its  most  in- 
fluential members,  and  read  to  them  the  speech  which 
the  Convention  had  repudiated.  At  its  conclusion  he 
raised  his  hand  impressively,  and  delivered  these  sol- 
emn words: 

"Brothers,  you  have  heard  my  last  will  and  testa- 
ment. I  have  seen  to-day  that  the  league  of  villains 
is  so  strong,  that  I  cannot  hope  to  escape  them.  I 
yield  without  a  murmur!  I  leave  to  you  my  memory; 
it  will  be  dear  to  you,  and  you  will  defend  it." 

Then  he  fell  back  fainting  with  exhaustion. 

Immediately,  the  building  resounded  with  thunders 
of  applause,  and  vows  of  sanguinary  vengeance.  Many 
were  affected  even  to  tears,  and,  crowding  round  their 
leader,  conjured  him,  with  the  most  urgent  entreaties, 
to  arouse  the  people  to  insurrection.  Henriot,  the 
Commander  of  the  National  Guards,  declared  his 
readiness  to  march  his  troops  against  the  Convention. 

These  evidences  of  support  roused  fresh  courage  in 
the  trembling  tyrant.  Knowing  that  death  was  the 
inevitable  doom  of  the  defeated  party  in  the  political 
battle  then  raging,  he  was  persuaded  to  accept  Hen- 
riot's  offer,  saying : 

"Well,  then,  let  us  separate  the  wicked  from  the 


THE  SOUNDING  BOARD   CEASES  TO   RESPOND.   23! 

weak !  Free  the  Convention  from  those  who  oppress 
it !  Advance  and  save  the  country !  If,  in  these  gen- 
erous efforts  we  fail,  my  friends,  you  shall  see  me 
drink  hemlock  calmly." 

The  enthusiasm  evoked  by  these  hypocritical  words 
was  tremendous. 

David,  the  famous  painter,  sprang  forward  and 
grasped  his  hand,  exclaiming : 

"Robespierre,  if  you  drink  hemlock,  I  will  drink  it 
with  you!" 

"We  will  all  drink  hemlock!"  cried  a  multitude  of 
voices.  "To  die  with  Robespierre  is  to  die  with  the 
people !" 

Francois  the  Idler  was  a  witness  of  this  scene.  He 
was  a  witness  also  of  a  violent  incident  that  succeed- 
ed it. 

Several  Thermidorians,  having  followed  Robespierre 
to  the  Jacobin  Club,  were  recognized  and  denounced 
by  Couthon.  Immediately,  a  number  of  violent  Ja- 
cobins fell  upon  them  furiously,  and  drove  them  from 
the  club  house,  wounded  and  half  stripped  of  their 
garments. 

This  exhibition  of  rage  produced  a  curious  effect 
upon  Robespierre.  It  determined  him  on  a  change  in 
his  plans.  Before  its  occurrence,  he  had  consented  to 
an  insurrection  of  the  people  on  his  behalf;  after  it, 
he  positively  refused  to  countenance  means  so  lawless 
and  desperate. 

His  retraction,  however,  was  probably  prompted  by 
confidence,  rather  than  virtue ;  for  he  now  firmly  be- 


232  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

lieved  in  his  ability  to  triumph  in  the  Convention  o« 
the  following  day. 

Francois  the  Idler,  as  has  been  said,  was  a  witness 
of  these  dramatic  scenes,  and,  fully  conscious  of  their 
ominous  significance,  hurried  off  to  warn  the  Thermi- 
dorians  of  their  peril. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

LOST  BEYOND  HOPE. 

JEAN  LOUVET'S  trial  before  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal  was  a  mockery  from  beginning  to  end.  He 
knew  that  it  would  be  so,  and  went  through  it  with 
scornful  indifference. 

He  made  no  efforts  at  defense,  merely  replying  to 
the  questions  asked  him.  Within  ten  minutes  from 
the  opening  of  his  case,  he  was  adjudged  guilty  of 
treason,  and  sentenced  to  the  guillotine. 

On  his  return  to  the  Conciergerie,  he  was  received 
by  his  jailer,  who  displayed  a  friendly  interest  in  his 
fate. 

"I  know  what  your  return  here  means,"  he  said, 
with  a  hiccough,  "and  I'm  sorry  that  your  trial  turned 
out  so.  You  did  me  a  good  turn  this  morning,  and 
I'll  not  forget  it.  Those  unlocked  cells  might  have 
cost  me  my  job.  So,  if  I  can  do  anything  to  make  you 
comfortable  while  you  stop  here,  why  just  let  me 
know." 

"Thank  you,"  returned  Lou  vet.  "If  you  are  really 
desirous  of  serving  me,  I  can  suggest  a  way.  Events 
of  the  greatest  importance  to  the  Republic  are  taking 
place  in  Paris,  and  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  is 

[233] 


234  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

going  on.     If  you  will  find  out,  from  time  to  time, 
and  bring  me  word,  I  will  repay  you  amply." 

The  jailer  agreed  to  this  readily. 

"Do  you  know,  citizen,"  he  added,  as  he  conducted 
Louvet  to  his  cell,  "that  a  very  strange  thing  happened 
during  your  absence  ?" 

"Indeed?" 

"Yes,  the  strangest  thing  that  was  ever  heard  of; 
but  perhaps  you  can  explain  it.  You  remember  what 
trouble  I  had  to  read  the  list  of  the  condemned  this 
morning,  and  how  the  cell  numbers  all  ran  together 
on  the  paper?  Well,  at  your  advice,  I  went  over  to 
the  window,  where  the  light  was  better,  and  made  out 
that  the  next  cell  I  was  to  put  a  cross  on  was  No.  52." 

"Yes,"  answered  Louvet,  trembling  with  apprehen- 
sion, "and  I  saw  you  mark  the  door  of  that  cell  with 
my  own  eyes." 

"Of  course  you  did!"  exclaimed  the  jailer,  "and 
you  saw  me  close  the  door  as  well.  You  also  helped 
me  lock  every  door  under  my  care,  I'll  swear  to  that !" 

Louvet's  heart  sickened  with  dread. 

"Go  on !"  he  muttered  faintly. 

"Well,  according  to  my  list,  the  prisoner  in  No.  52 
was  Representative  Alphonse  Vauban.  So  you  can 
understand  my  surprise,  when  I  tell  you  what  hap- 
pened. While  you  were  away  to  be  tried,  the  tumbrils 
arrived  to  cart  off  the  condemned  to  the  guillotine. 
The  chief  jailer  visited  the  cells  himself,  opened  all 
those  I  had  marked  with  a  cross,  and  called  upon  the 
inmates  to  come  forth  to  be  executed.  After  the  tum- 
brils had  departed,  I  made  my  usual  round  of  the  cells, 


LOST    BEYOND  HOPE.  235 

with  water  for  the  prisoners,  and  came  presently  to 
No.  52." 

He  hesitated,  looking  up  into  Jean's  face  with  a 
puzzled  expression. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  door  of  Vauban's 
cell. 

"Well,  what  next?"  asked  Louvet,  tremulously. 

Pointing  to  the  closed  door  of  cell  No.  52,  the 
jailer  replied,  in  a  superstitious  whisper : 

"The  cross  marks  had  disappeared,  and  the  prisoner 
was  within.  Look  for  yourself!" 

Tears  of  joy  sparkled  in  Jean  Louvet's  eyes ;  for 
he  now  knew  that  his  stratagem  had  succeeded. 

Just  then  the  murmur  of  voices  in  conversation  is- 
sued through  the  grating.  One  was  the  light  treble 
of  a  child;  the  other  the  deep,  rich  bass  of  a  man. 
They  informed  him  that  he  had  saved  the  little  girl 
as  well  as  Vauban.  A  moment  afterward,  Louvet  was 
locked  securely  in  his  own  narrow  chamber,  and  left 
to  meditate  upon  his  fast  approaching  doom. 

About  five  in  the  afternoon,  the  friendly  jailer,  whose 
name  was  Billaud,  peered  through  the  grating  of  the 
door  and  whispered  hoarsely: 

"I've  news  for  you,  citizen." 

Advancing  with  alacrity,  Jean  reached  the  grief- 
hole,  and  pressed  his  face  close  against  the  iron  bars. 

"I  am  listening,"  he  muttered  anxiously.  "You 
may  proceed." 

"There's  been  the  wildest  excitement  in  the  Con- 
vention to-day,"  said  Billaud,  in  nervous  undertones. 
"Robespierre  denounced  his  enemies  in  a  great  speech, 


236  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

and  they  raised  such  an  uproar  against  him,  that  he 
left  the  hall  in  a  rage.  It  appears  that  a  strong  party 
has  been  organized  to  ruin  him;  but  he'll  triumph  in 
spite  of  their  efforts." 

His  last  words  were  uttered  so  confidently  that  Lou- 
vet  was  greatly  alarmed. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  asked. 

"That  the  great  Robespierre  is  now  repeating  his 
speech  before  the  Jacobin  Club,  and  its  members  are 
applauding  him  to  a  man." 

"Then  Robespierre  was  not  accused  and  arrested 
by  the  Convention's  order?" 

"No;  and  he  is  now  mustering  his  friends  about 
him  to  defeat  his  enemies  to-morrow  morning.  As  he 
has  the  National  Guards,  the  gendarmes,  and  the 
people  at  his  back,  he  is  sure  to  come  out  on  top  in 
the  struggle." 

Louvet  uttered  a  despairing  groan;  for  he  knew 
that  his  friends  were  now  lost  beyond  all  hope.  The 
jailer  having  departed — for  to  linger  longer  would 
have  been  perilous — he  staggered  back  into  his  cell 
and  flung  himself  prone  upon  his  pallet. 

"Lost!  Lost!"  he  moaned,  in  anguish.  "Of  what 
avail  was  my  stratagem  to  delay  M.  Vauban's  execu- 
tion until  to-morrow  ?  To  repeat  it  will  be  impossible. 
To-morrow  he  will  be  murdered  upon  the  guillotine, 
even  should  Robespierre's  enemies  triumph.  They 
have  lost  a  day  by  their  cowardly  indecision,  and  that 
will  prove  fatal  to  my  friends.  Oh,  Louise,  my  own 
beloved !  I  fear  you,  also,  must  perish.  Can  it  be  pos- 


LOST  BEYOND   HOPE.  237 

sible  there  is  a  God  in  Heaven  to  permit  such  things 
to  come  to  pass?" 

So  excessive  was  his  grief,  that  it  deprived  him  of 
all  consciousness,  and  he  lay  face  downward  on  his 
couch  like  one  devoid  of  life. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  he  was  roused  to  par- 
take of  supper.  He  forced  himself  to  eat  the  coarse 
fare  provided,  as  he  was  resolved  to  retain  his  strength 
until  the  last. 

At  seven  o'clock,  the  door  of  his  cell  was  unlocked, 
and  he  was  informed  that  the  hour  for  evening  exer- 
cise had  arrived.  As  this  would  afford  him  an  oppor- 
tunity to  converse  again  with  M.  Vauban,  he  deter- 
mined to  avail  himself  of  it. 

So,  hastening  into  the  corridor,  he  mingled  once 
more  with  the  condemned  prisoners,  until  he  beheld 
his  friend,  pacing  to  and  fro  at  the  end  of  the  gallery, 
holding  the  little  girl  by  the  hand. 

"Good  evening,  Citizen  Louvet!"  exclaimed  M. 
Vauban,  cheerily.  "Have  you  appeared  before  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal  as  yet?" 

"I  have,"  was  the  gloomy  response,  "and  was  sent- 
enced to  death  without  a  hearing.  So  we  may  ride 
together  to  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  to-morrow." 

"Do  you  mean  that  the  coup  d'etat  you  spoke  of  this 
morning  has  failed,  and  that  Robespierre  still  tyran- 
nizes over  the  nation  ?" 

"It  grieves  me  to  answer,  yes,"  returned  Louvet, 
bowing  his  head  dejectedly.  "Even  if  he  should  be 
dethroned  to-morrow,  I  fear  it  would  be  too  late  for 
our  salvation." 


?38  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"Take  heart,  my  noble  friend,"  returned  Vauban, 
gently.  "I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  fear  to  die.  There 
is  but  one  regret  I  have,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice 
to  a  whisper.  "I  would  suffer  any  torture  if  I  could 
save  this  little  child." 

While  speaking  he  laid  his  hand  tenderly  upon  the 
little  one's  head,  and  glanced  down  upon  her  with 
fatherly  affection.  Louvet  was  on  the  point  of  telling 
him  that  it  would  be  more  consistent  to  save  his 
sympathies  for  his  own  daughter,  who  was  at  that 
moment  a  prisoner  in  the  Luxembourg,  awaiting  the 
death  sentence,  when  a  glance  at  his  friend's  benevo- 
lent countenance  restrained  him. 

M.  Vauban  was  unaware  as  yet  of  the  fate  that  had 
befallen  Louise,  and  it  would  be  an  act  of  unnecessary 
cruelty  to  inform  him. 

"On  what  charge  was  this  child  condemned?"  in- 
quired Jean,  after  a  pause. 

"Her  parents  were  unfortunately  aristocrats,"  re- 
plied M.  Vauban. 

Jean  was  about  to  press  his  inquiries  further,  when 
a  commotion  at  the  other  end  of  the  corridor  attracted 
his  attention.  There  was  a  door  there,  opening  upon 
a  flight  of  steps  that  led  down  to  the  cells  of  the  con- 
demned. Beyond  it  was  a  narrow  hall,  communicating 
with  the  prison  offices,  and  with  the  apartments  of 
the  chief  jailer  and  his  underlings. 

This  door  had  just  been  opened  to  admit  a  number 
of  new  arrivals  from  the  other  prisons,  who  had  been 
condemned  and  sentenced  by  the  Revolutionary  Tri- 
bunal that  day.  One  by  one,  they  slowly  descended 


LOST    BEYOND   HOPE.  230 

into  the  corridor,  and  joined  those  who  had  pre- 
ceded them  on  their  fatal  journey. 

"It  is  evident  that  the  tumbrils  have  come  from 
the  Court  of  the  Tribunal,"  said  M.  Vauban,  casting 
a  pitying  glance  upon  the  unhappy  wretches.  "Poor 
unfortunates,  how  my  heart  aches  for  them !" 

Suddenly  he  started  back  with  an  agonized  cry. 

"Oh,  mercy,  dear  God !    Mercy !" 

Turning  quickly  toward  him,  Louvet  saw  that  his 
eyes  were  starting  from  their  sockets,  and  that  every 
muscle  of  his  ashen  face  quivered  with  mortal  anguish. 

Following  the  direction  of  his  fixed  gaze,  Jean  be- 
held an  apparition  that  completely  deprived  him  of  the 
use  of  his  faculties.  A  terrible  groan  welled  uo  from 
the  depths  of  his  breaking1  heart,  and,  staring  va- 
cantly toward  the  door  of  the  corridor,  he  tottered 
back  against  the  wall  for  support. 

At  that  instant,  a  bell  clanged  somewhere  in  the 
building,  announcing  that  the  period  of  exercise  had 
expired. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   NINTH   OF  THERMIDOK. 

THE  night  intervening  between  the  eighth  and  ninth 
of  Thermidor  was  one  of  the  most  intense  anxiety  in 
Paris.  The  stormy  scenes  in  the  Convention,  during 
its  session  of  the  day  before,  had  reached  the  ears  of 
every  citizen,  and  the  clubs,  cafes  and  wine-shops 
were  thronged  to  their  utmost  capacity. 

Excited  groups  occupied  every  corner,  discussing 
the  probable  result  of  Robespierre  second  battle  with 
the  Convention.  In  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  there 
was  a  rising  of  the  people,  instigated  by  the  tyrant's 
partisans.  His  friends,  too,  were  active  in  concerting 
insurrections  in  other  quarters  of  the  city,  with  the 
idea  of  mobbing  the  Convention  on  the  morrow,  in 
the  event  of  their  leader's  defeat  by  the  members  of 
that  body. 

Nor  were  the  despot's  enemies  inactive.  Tallien, 
Barras,  Freron,  and  their  adherents  slept  not.  A  corps 
of  messengers  and  agents,  some  on  horseback,  others 
on  foot,  were  kept  busy  until  daylight,  bringing  them 
intelligence  of  the  transactions  at  the  Club  of  Jacob- 
ins, and  of  the  increasing  tumult  of  the  people. 

Apprised  of  their  danger,  they  made  vigorous  prep- 
arations for  the  defense  of  the  Convention  Hall 
[240] 


THE   NINTH   OF  THERMIDOR.  24! 

against  the  rabble,  and  their  own  protection  during 
the  session. 

It  was  unanimously  resolved  that,  should  Robes- 
pierre attempt  to  mount  the  tribune,  he  must  be  de- 
nounced by  internal  tumult,  and  not  permitted  to 
speak.  The  Thermidorians  were  to  rise  from  their 
seats  in  a  body  and  cry  him  down.  Then  Tallien,  as 
the  most  audacious  and  eloquent  of  their  leaders,  was 
to  force  his  way  into  the  tribune,  in  Robespierre's 
place,  and  call  for  his  accusation  and  arrest. 

Barras  was  intrusted  with  the  military  defense,  to 
prevent  the  rabble  from  interfering  with  these  pro- 
ceedings. Thus  each  party,  not  knowing  the  strength 
of  the  other,  made  every  possible  preparation  for  the 
morrow,  and  was  sanguine  of  success. 


While  the  chief  actors  in  the  approaching  drama 
were  so  engaged,  three  humble  citizens  were  sitting 
round  a  table  in  a  small  wine-shop,  situated  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  conversing,  with  their  heads 
close  together,  after  the  approved  manner  of  conspir- 
ators. The  room  they  occupied  was  a  small,  square 
chamber,  reserved  for  the  use  of  «•*«•"—*«  customers, 
who  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  while  sipping  their 
wine.  Nevertheless,  there  was  a  possibility  that  an 
eavesdropper  might  be  lurking  around,  so  they  con- 
ferred in  whispers. 

"I  should  positively  die  of  shame,"  said  one,  "if  we 
should  allow  the  Chief  to  perish  without  lifting  a  hand 


242  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

to  save  him.  That  is  why  I  asked  you  to  meet  me 
here." 

"You  are  no  more  anxious  on  his  behalf  than  I  am, 
Andre,"  returned  a  stockily-built  man  at  his  left. 

"Nor  than  I,"  chimed  in  the  fashionably  attired 
lounger,  sitting  at  his  right. 

"Well,  then,"  returned  the  first  speaker,  "let  us  see 
what  means  Andre  the  Barber,  Simon  the  Jailer,  and 
Franyois  the  Idler  can  devise  for  his  rescue." 

"What  have  you  to  suggest?"  asked  Simon. 

Andre  the  Barber  shook  his  head  hopelessly. 

"If  I  could  only  gain  an  audience  with  Robes- 
pierre," he  said,  "I  think  I  could  persuade  him  to  delay 
the  execution.  He  really  believes  me  one  of  the  truest 
friends  he  has,  and  might  spare  the  Chief  as  a  personal 
favor  to  me." 

"I  doubt  it,"  returned  Simon,  with  an  incredulous 
shake  of  the  head. 

"Then  suggest  something  better  if  you  can." 

Simon  the  Jailer  now  looked  despairingly  at  Fran- 
gois. 

"Can't  you  come  to  our  aid,  comrade?"  he  asked. 

The  young  man  appealed  to,  leaned  farther  over  the 
table,  and  answered,  drawlingly: 

"It  is  useless  for  Andre  to  seek  an  interview  with 
Robespierre,  for  he  is  far  too  anxious  about  his  own 
head  just  now  to  think  of  saving  the  head  of  another. 
Therefore,  we  will  eliminate  Andre's  suggestion  from 
consideration.  As  for  you,  Simon,"  he  continued, 
"you  acknowledge  that  you  have  no  suggestion  to 


THE   N  NTFI   OF   THERMIDOR.  243 

offer.  Therefore,  it  remains  with  me  to  propose  a  plot 
for  your  acceptance." 

Pausing  a  moment  to  enjoy  the  discomfiture  of  his 
comrades,  he  resumed : 

"There  is  only  one  possible  way  of  saving  our  dear 
Chief  from  the  guillotine,  and  even  that  may  fail." 

Here  he  bent  still  nearer  to  his  companions ;  lowered 
his  voice  to  a  whisper;  and  assumed  such  an  air  of 
mystery,  that  even  the  ubiquitous  novelist,  who  is  sup- 
posed to  penetrate  with  an  infallible  intuition  into  the 
most  secret  plots  and  motives  of  his  characters,  in 
this  case  must  confess  to  failure. 

That  Frangois'  scheme  was  a  clever  one,  however, 
was  apparent  from  the  behavior  of  his  listeners. 

"A  capital  idea!"  exclaimed  Andre,  hopefully. 
"You  can  trust  me  to  play  my  part  in  it." 

"And  you  can  count  on  me  also,"  chimed  in  Simon, 
his  face  glowing  with  enthusiasm.  "There's  no  mis- 
take about  it,  Frangois,  you  are  a  young  man  of  posi- 
tive genius." 

At  this  point  their  conference  ended,  and  they  hur- 
ried out  of  the  wine-shop. 

Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  sidewalk,  when  a 
clock  in  the  neighborhood  struck  midnight. 

"The  ninth  of  Thermidor  has  begun !,"  exclaimed 
Frangois,  in  solemn  tones. 

"A  day  destined  to  be  one  of  the  most  memorable 
in  history,"  added  Andre,  with  prophetic  gravity. 

And,  embracing  one  another  fervently,  the  three 
friends  separated. 


244  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

When  the  sun  soared  above  the  roofs  and  steeples  of 
Paris,  on  the  day  called,  according  to  republican  chro- 
nology, the  ninth  of  Thermidor,  but  which  the  civilized 
world  in  general  designated,  the  27th  of  July,  1794, 
Robespierre  arose  from  the  bed,  where  he  had  thrown 
himself  to  rest,  rather  than  to  sleep,  and  attired  himself 
with  his  usual  scrupulous  care. 

For  was  he  not  to  gain  a  signal  triumph  over  his 
enemies  before  nightfall  ? 

It  was  evident  that  he  thought  so;  for  his  eyes 
twinkled  wickedly,  and  a  smile  of  grim  determination 
settled  about  the  corners  of  his  harsh  mouth. 

"I  was  taken  by  surprise  yesterday,"  he  reflected, 
pacing  his  bedchamber,  while  waiting  for  his  break- 
fast; "consequently  my  enemies  gained  a  temporary 
advantage  over  me.  To-day,  however,  I  am  prepared, 
and  will  crush  them.  Ungrateful  wretches !  Have 
they  forgotten  all  I  have  sacrificed  to  the  cause  of 
liberty?" 

His  eyes  blazed  with  fanaticism  as  he  continued : 

"It  rests  with  thee,  Maximilian  Robespierre,  to  res- 
cue France  from  her  enemies,  for  thou  alone  art  in- 
corruptible. Thy  destiny  and  that  of  the  Republic  are 
one.  Victory  for  thee  to-day,  means  the  triumph  of 
liberty;  defeat,  the  downfall  of  the  Republic." 

When  Robespierre  entered  the  Convention  Hall, 
later  in  the  morning,  silence  reigned  throughout  the 
crowded  house.  Every  eye  was  turned  upon  him,  as 
he  walked  quickly  to  his  seat,  casting  scornful,  tri- 
umphant glances  upon  his  enemies. 

The  galleries  were  packed  to  suffocation;  for  all 


THE  NINTH  OF  THERMIDOR.  245 

Paris  knew  that  life,  or  death,  was  involved  in  the 
issue  of  the  political  struggle  about  to  begin. 

In  one  corner  of  the  upper  gallery,  sat  Jacques  the 
Blacksmith,  his  huge  arms  resting  upon  the  railing, 
and  his  ferocious  face  supported  between  his  great 
hands.  At  his  side,  sat  Francois  the  Idler,  whispering 
to  him  earnestly  at  intervals ;  and,  forming  an  attentive 
group  around  these  two,  were  some  twenty  red-capped 
denizens  of  St.  Antoine,  the  members  of  a  political  club 
of  which  the  blacksmith  was  the  leader. 

"I  have  brought  you  here,  Citizen  Jacques,"  whis- 
pered Frangois,  "to  let  you  judge  for  yourself  whether 
this  Maximilian  Robespierre  is,  or  is  not,  determined 
to  tyrannize  as  a  despot  over  the  Republic.  The  Con- 
vention, which,  as  you  know,  is  composed  of  Repre- 
sentatives of  the  people,  will  force  him  to  show  his 
hand  to-day,  and  you  can  then  see  how  he  has  been 
deceiving  honest  patriots  like  ourselves." 

Jacques  the  Blacksmith,  who  had  already  been  some- 
what shaken  in  his  confidence  in  Robespierre  by  Fran- 
gois' arguments,  nodded  his  head  doubtfully,  and  mut- 
tered : 

"We  shall  see." 

At  that  moment  a  commotion  on  the  floor  of  the 
house  indicated  that  the  hour  for  commencing  the  tre- 
mendous drama  had  arrived. 

St.  Just,  on  behalf  of  Robespierre,  began  the  onset. 

A  scene  of  tumult  immediately  ensued  of  which  no 
adequate  description  can  be  given.  As  narrated  in  the 
'Moniteur,  of  the  nth  of  Thermidor,  it  stands  out  as 
one  of  the  most  exciting  episodes  in  history. 


246  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED.'  %. 

«\ 

The  Thermidorians  rose  in  a  body  and  filled  the  halt 
with  their  wild  cries.  St.  Just,  confused  by  the  clamor, 
paused  at  the  steps  of  the  tribune,  undecided  what 
course  to  pursue.  Seeing  at  a  glance  that  his  friends 
were  far  outnumbered  by  his  foes,  Robespierre  was 
overwhelmed  with  despair. 

Pale  and  agitated  he  attempted  to  ascend  the  tribune. 

But  Tallien  was  too  quick  for  him.  Rushing  for- 
ward with  blazing  eyes,  he  laid  rude  hands  on  the 
despot's  person,  and  dragged  him  forcibly  away.  This 
audacious  act  inspired  the  Thermidorians  with  enthu- 
siasm. 

"Down  with  the  tyrant!" 

The  great  hall  trembled  to  this  cry. 

While  the  uproar  was  at  its  height,  Tallien,  mount- 
ing the  tribune  from  which  he  had  just  ejected  Robes- 
pierre, raised  his  hand  to  command  a  hearing.  Sud- 
denly the  mad  cries  of  his  partisans  ceased.  Then 
their  bold  leader,  with  a  dramatic,  impassioned  gesture, 
addressed  them  in  words  instinct  with  warning. 

"Just  now,"  he  began,  with  a  threatening  glance  at 
Robespierre,  "I  determined  that  the  curtain  should  be 
withdrawn.  It  is  done.  The  conspirators  are  un- 
masked, and  liberty  shall  triumph.  Up  to  this  moment, 
I  had  preserved  utter  silence,  because  I  was  aware  that 
the  tyrant  had  made  a  list  of  proscriptions.  But  I 
was  present  at  the  sitting  of  the  Jacobins  last  night, 
and  heard  utterances  that  made  me  tremble  for  the 
existence  of  the  Republic.  I  beheld  the  formation  of 
the  army  of  this  second  Cromwell,  and  resolved  that, 


THE  NINTH   OF  THERMIDOR.  247 

if  the  Convention  dared  not  strike  the  tyrant,  then  I, 
myself,  would  dare." 

He  paused,  drew  a  glittering  dagger  from  his  waist- 
band, and,  pointing  it  menacingly  at  the  breast  of 
Robespiere,  cried  out  in  tragic  accents: 

"And  with  this  poniard  will  I  pierce  his  heart,  if 
the  Convention  has  not  the  courage  to  order  his  imme- 
diate arrest." 

At  the  same  time  he  moved  the  arrest  of  Henriot 
and  other  leading  partisans  of  the  despot. 

The  motion  was  tumultuously  carried. 

In  vain  did  Robespierre  attempt  to  gain  a  hearing. 
Cries  of  "Down  with  the  tyrant"  filled  the  house,  and 
menaces,  reproaches  and  insults  were  heaped  upon  him 
without  measure. 

Pale  with  terror,  he  turned  to  President  Thuriot, 
crying  out  hoarsely : 

"President  of  assassins,  will  you  hear  me  ?" 

But  his  voice  was  drowned  in  the  overwhelming 
clamor  of  his  enemies.  The  motion  for  his  arrest  hav- 
ing been  carried  with  thunders  of  applause,  his  brother, 
Augustin  Robespierre,  a  young  man  universally  es- 
teemed for  his  many  virtues,  sprang  forward  to  his 
side,  shouting: 

"I  am  as  guilty  as  my  brother.  As  I  have  striven 
to  share  his  virtues,  I  demand  to  share  his  fate." 

This  act  of  generosity  aroused  a  responsive  feeling 
in  the  fallen  man,  who  instantly  cried  out: 

"Attention,  citizens!  As  I  have,  perhaps,  deserved 
your  hatred,  I  accept  your  condemnation.  But  whether 


248  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

it  be  crime,  or  virtue,  which  you  strike  in.  me,  my 
brother  is  not  guilty." 

Nevertheless,  Augustin  Robespierre  was  condemned 
to  arrest.  In  quick  succession,  Couthon,  St.  Just, 
Lebas  and  others  were  also  decreed  to  the  same  fate, 
and  the  triumph  of  the  Thermidorians  was  complete. 

As  cries  of  "Vive  la  Republique!"  arose  on  all  sides, 
Robespierre  quietly  folded  his  arms,  and,  with  a  con- 
temptuous sneer  on  his  lips,  exclaimed: 

"The  Republic?  It  is  destroyed,  for  scoundrels  tri- 
umph !" 

At  that  instant  the  clock  in  the  Convention  Hall 
struck  three. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

TOO  LATE. 

WHAT  was  the  apparition  which  evoked  that  agon- 
ized cry  from  M.  Vauban,  and  produced  such  a  ter- 
rible effect  upon  Jean  Louvet? 

It  was  the  sudden  appearance  of  Louise  and  the 
maid,  Marie,  in  the  doorway  at  which  they  were  gaz- 
ing. 

With  the  stately  bearing  of  a  queen,  she  descended 
the  steps  leading  down  into  that  house  of  death.  Her 
dark  eyes  expressed  the  utmost  tranquillity,  and  a 
serene  smile  dimpled  the  corners  of  her  lovely  mouth. 
To  the  despairing  creatures  who  witnessed  her  en- 
trance, she  appeared  like  one  of  God's  angels  sent  to 
console  them  in  their  last  hours  of  misery. 

Just  as  she  reached  the  foot  of  the  steps,  the  bell, 
announcing  that  the  brief  period  for  exercise  had  ex- 
pired, sounded  its  warning,  and  she  was  immediately 
locked  up  in  the  cell  allotted  to  her.  Thus  her  friends 
were  deprived  of  an  opportunity  to  communicate  with 
her,  and  she  was  left  in  ignorance  of  their  presence 
in  the  prison. 

That  night  was  a  frightful  one  for  Jean  Louvet. 
He  paced  his  narrow  quarters  continuously,  wringing 
his  hands,  and  moaning,  like  a  lost  soul.  It  seemed, 

[249] 


250  THE   MAN  WHO  DARED. 

at  times,  that  his  reason  would  become  completely 
overthrown,  so  terrible  were  his  grief  and  despair. 

As  for  poor  Vauban,  he  wailed  piteously  through 
most  of  the  night,  and,  toward  morning,  sank  into  a 
stupor  in  which  he  remained,  until  aroused  by  his 
jailer  for  breakfast.  The  child  he  had  taken  under 
his  protection,  amazed  at  his  sudden  collapse,  sat  by 
his  side  in  silence,  until  sleep  relieved  her  of  her  vigils. 

At  last  the  hour  for  morning  exercise  arrived. 

Jean  Louvet  was  the  first  to  appear.  Having  been 
informed  by  the  friendly  jailer  of  the  situation  of 
Louise's  cell,  he  hastened  thither,  with  breathless  speed, 
to  prepare  her  for  the  approaching  interview  with  her 
father.  He  met  her  as  she  was  coming  through  the 
narrow  door. 

"Can  it  be  possible,  M.  Louvet,  that  you  are  here?" 
she  cried,  endeavoring  to  control  her  emotion. 

"Yes,  mademoiselle,"  returned  Louvet,  with  a  des- 
perate effort  to  appear  calm.  "You  remember  the  word 
I  sent  you,  do  you  not  ?" 

"Do  you  refer  to  your  last  message?"  she  inquired, 
with  trembling  lips. 

Louvet  bowed  his  head  in  assent;  for  he  had  not 
the  courage  to  speak  his  thoughts. 

"Then  the  worst  has  befallen  my  poor  father,"  she 
moaned,  staggering  against  the  doorpost  for  support. 

The  words  that  followed  seemed  to  be  addressed  to 
herself,  rather  than  to  Louvet. 

"Do  I  remember  the  message  of  this  dear  friend? 
Alas,  yes;  for  it  is  engraved  upon  my  heart.  'If  failure 


TOO   LATE.  251 

should  be  the  result  of  my  plans,'  he  said,  'I  will 
perish  with  those  whom  I  have  struggled  to  rescue.'  " 

A  period  of  silence  followed,  during  which  Louise 
seemed  to  struggle  with  her  emotions.  Then,  raising 
her  eyes  to  Jean's  anxious  face,  she  resumed  com- 
posedly : 

"I  understand  what  your  presence  here  means,  my 
dear  friend.  It  signifies  that  you  have  failed  to  save 
my  father.  You  have  made  a  heroic  fight,  and  I  thank 
you  from  the  depths  of  my  heart.  But  why  did  you 
decide  so  rashly  to  perish  with  the  friends  you  tried 
to  rescue?" 

"Because  I  love  them,"  was  the  impassioned  answer. 

Louise  replied  to  this  expression  of  genuine  feeling 
with  a  glance  of  infinite  tenderness. 

"When  did  my  father  go  to  his  martyrdom?"  she 
asked  timidly,  after  a  pause. 

Louvet's  face  brightened. 

"He  has  not  perished  as  yet!"  he  exclaimed,  tri- 
umphantly ;  "for  I  succeeded  in  delaying  his  execution 
for  a  day.  He  is  now  in  this  prison,  and  you  will  meet 
him  presently." 

"You  saved  him  for  this  meeting  with  me?"  mur- 
mured Louise,  in  tones  that  thrilled  Louvet  to  the 
heart.  "Oh,  how  noble  and  considerate  you  are !" 

At  that  instant,  the  girl  caught  sight  of  her  father, 
as  he  emerged  dejectedly  from  his  cell,  leading  his 
little  companion  by  the  hand,  and  sprang  forward  to 
his  side. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  good  father!"  she  exclaimed,  clasp- 
ing him  tenderly  in  her  arms.  "Did  you  think  your 


252  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

little  Louise  had  deserted  you?  Oh,  no,  she  is  incap- 
able of  such  cruelty !  Look  at  me,  darling !  See,  it  is 
your  own  little  daughter,  who  has  come  here  to  share 
your  fatel" 

While  giving  utterance  to  these  endearments,  she 
rained  kisses  upon  his  poor  old  face.  Then,  suddenly 
changing  her  tone  to  one  of  encouragement,  she  re- 
sumed : 

"Oh,  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is,  dear  father,  that 
we  are  permitted  to  perish  together!  Let  us  show 
our  enemies  how  bravely  we  can  meet  our  fate.  The 
Vaubans  were  never  cowards,  father." 

Jean  Louvet,  who  had  followed  her  across  the  corri- 
dor, was  entranced  with  the  heroism  she  displayed. 
Indeed,  there  was  something  so  magnetic  in  her  utter- 
ances that  the  hearts  of  all  present  were  inspired  with 
enthusiasm,  and  even  M.  Vauban  was  reanimated  with 
new  courage. 

During  the  hour  that  ensued,  the  Vaubans  and  Jean 
Louvet  conversed  happily  together,  without  once  men- 
tioning their  fast  approaching  doom.  As  if  by  tacit 
agreement,  this  theme  was  carefully  avoided,  although 
the  future  world  and  kindred  subjects  were  discoursed 
of  freely.  In  fact,  it  was  one  of  those  rare  occasions, 
when  soul  is  revealed  to  soul,  and  speech  becomes 
spiritualized  and  sublime. 


On  the  afternoon  of  the  ninth  of  Thermidor,  an 
unusual  delay  occurred  in  the  arrival  at  the  Con- 


TOO   LATE.  253 

ciergerie  of  the  tumbrils.  They  generally  made  their 
appearance  at  two  o'clock;  but  on  the  day  of  Robes- 
pierre's downfall,  were  strangely  dilatory. 

When  the  customary  hour  passed,  and  still  they 
did  not  come,  the  despairing  victims  in  the  prison 
began  to  hope.  As  minute  after  minute  sped  on,  with- 
out their  being  summoned  to  come  forth  to  death,  this 
hope  grew  stronger  in  their  breasts. 

Suddenly  the  great  clock  in  the  corridor  struck 
three. 

While  the  air  still  vibrated  with  the  sound  of  its  last 
stroke,  a  faint  noise  was  heard  in  the  street  outside. 
Then  a  universal  groan  arose  from  every  cell,  and  de- 
spair resumed  its  sway  in  every  heart.  For  there  was 
no  mistaking  the  significance  of  that  low,  continuous 
noise. 

It  was  the  rumbling  of  heavy  cartwheels  over  ihe 
pavement. 

At  last  the  sounds  suddenly  ceased,  just  opposite 
the  entrance  to  the  prison,  and  a  period  of  silence 
followed.  It  was  broken,  shortly  afterward,  by  the 
tread  of  footsteps  approaching  the  door,  which  pres- 
ently opened,  and  the  chief  jailer  descended  into  the 
corridor.  He  was  followed  by  two  underlings,  with 
great  bunches  of  keys  dangling  from  their  waistbands. 

"There's  room  in  the  carts  for  all  to-day,"  he  an- 
nounced, with  an  imperious  gesture. 

Then,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  added  with  a  brutal 
laugh,  "St.  Guillotine  will  be  pleased  with  our  gener- 
ous offering." 


254  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

When  the  door  had  closed  after  him,  the  turnkeys 
made  the  rounds,  opening  cell  after  cell  as  they  pro- 
ceeded, and  calling  upon  the  prisoners  to  come  forth. 

In  a  few 'minutes  the  condemned  were  all  standing 
in  the  corridor,  huddled  together  in  little  groups,  ac- 

^rding  to  the  friendships  they  had  formed  during 
their  short  stay  in  the  prison.  M.  Vauban,  Louise, 
Marie,  Jean  Louvet  and  the  little  girl  constituted  one 
of  these  small  bands.  They  were  wondering  whether 
they  would  be  allowed  to  ride  in  the  same  tumbril, 
when  the  friendly  jailer  approached  them  and  mumbled 
cautiously : 

"If  you'd  like  to  remain  in  each  other's  company 
until  the  last,  I  think  I  can  manage  to  arrange  it." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Jean,  gratefully.  "I  wish  it  were 
in  my  power  to  reward  you  for  your  kindness,  but  I 
am  unable  to  do  so  at  present.  However,"  he  added, 
handing  the  jailer  a  valuable  ring,  "there  is  a  trifle  on 
which  you  should  raise  at  least  a  thousand  francs." 

The  keeper  took  the  offering  in  open-mouthed  aston- 
ishment, and  slipped  it  slyly  into  his  pocket. 

At  that  moment  the  chief  jailer  appeared,  and  beck- 
oned the  prisoners  to  come  forward.  They  followed 
him  through  a  long  hall  into  a  large,  dark  room,  where 
they  again  fell  into  groups,  awaiting  the  final  summons 
to  go  forth  to  execution. 

When  this  time  at  last  arrived,  the  jailer  was  as 
good  as  his  word.  Approaching  Louvet  hastily,  he 
whispered : 

"Keep  close  to  your  friends  and  follow  me !" 


TOO   LATE.  255 

Then,  elbowing  his  way  quickly  through  the  crowd, 
he  led  them  through  the  prison  entrance  to  the  street, 
and  hurried  them  into  the  nearest  tumbril.  A  number 
of  other  prisoners  took  places  beside  them,  and,  with  a 
crack  of  his  whip,  the  driver  started  on  the  fatal 
journey,  escorted  by  mounted  guards  on  the  right  and 
left. 

The  remaining  tumbrils  were  soon  filled  with  vic- 
tims, and  formed  in  procession  behind.  As  they  jolted 
slowly  over  the  pavements,  crowds  walked  beside  them, 
howling  execrations  at  their  occupants,  and  waving 
hats,  sticks  and  clenched  fists  in  the  air. 

At  this  time  the  guillotine  was  situated  in  the  Place 
de  la  Revolution,  a  considerable  distance  from  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  and  it  was  customary  to  change  the  route 
of  the  death  carts  at  frequent  intervals.  The  way 
chosen  on  this  fateful  occasion  led  across  the  Place  du 
Carrousel,  and,  as  they  drew  within  sight  of  it,  a  ter- 
rible uproar  reached  their  ears. 

"It  is  as  I  feared,"  muttered  Louvet,  rising  in  his 
place  and  looking  toward  the  scene  of  commotion. 
"Robespierre  has  incited  an  insurrection  in  order  to 
crush  his  opponents  in  the  Convention." 

He  remained  gazing  upon  the  approaching  mob,  until 
the  tumbrils  entered  the  Place  du  Carrousel,  and  passed 
several  carts  going  in  an  opposite  direction. 

Then  he  uttered  an  agonized  cry  and  sank  back, 
limp  and  powerless. 

"What  ails  you,  dear  friend?"  asked  Louise,  anx- 
iously. 


256  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

Louvet  pointed  to  a  figure  in  one  of  the  passing 
carts. 

"Look  well  at  that  man !"  he  groaned  faintly.  "Tis 
Robespierre,  and  he  is  on  his  way  to  prison.  I  have 
accomplished  his  downfall.  I  have  won  the  game.  But, 
alas,  too  late !  Too  late !" 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

WITHIN    SIGHT  OF   THE   GUILLOTINE. 

LOUISE  glanced  in  the  direction  indicated,  and  saw 
that  Louvet  had  indeed  spoken  the  truth. 

In  the  foremost  death-cart,  stood  the  great  Robes- 
pierre, his  hands  tied  together  behind  his  back  and  his 
face  bent  downward,  in  an  attitude  of  complete  aban- 
donment to  despair.  On  one  side,  he  was  supported 
by  his  brother,  Augustin,  on  the  other,  by  a  gendarme. 

St.  Just,  Couthon,  Lebas  and  many  other  of  his  most 
active  partisans  occupied  the  carts  that  followed.  They 
were  manacled,  guarded  by  gendarmes,  and  were  pale 
with  fright.  A  strong  escort  of  mounted  guards  rode, 
two  by  two,  on  both  sides  of  the  carts,  to  protect  the 
prisoners  from  the  fury  of  the  populace,  who  crowded 
in  upon  them,  shouting  madly : 

"Vive  la  Rcpublique!    Death  to  the  tyrant!" 

What  a  swift  and  awful  retribution ! 

At  sunrise,  an  absolute  dictator;  ere  nightfall,  a 
condemned  outlaw.  In  the  morning,  the  idol  of  the 
people;  in  the  afternoon,  the  object  of  their  vengeance. 
Feared  and  despised;  beloved  and  hated;  omnipotent 
and  helpless;  from  the  pinnacle  of  greatness  to  the 
gutter  of  contempt — and  all  within  the  compass  of  a 
day. 

'  1257] 


2$8  THE    MAN   WHO   DARED. 

To  find  its  parallel,  one  must  turn  from  human  his- 
tory to  Divine,  and  contemplate  the  downfall  of  proud 
Lucifer. 

"Oh,  how  deeply  I  pity  him !"  sighed  Louise,  gazing 
upon  the  fallen  tyrant  with  infinite  compassion. 

Did  he  hear  her  ? 

Or  was  there  an  occult  attraction  in  her  starry  eyes 
which  compelled  him  to  look  up? 

Certain  it  is  that,  while  the  carts  were  passing, 
Robespierre  uplifted  his  face  suddenly,  and  their 
glances  met.* 

A  flash  of  recognition;  a  second  flash,  eloquent  in 
meaning,  passed  between  them ;  then  the  man  instantly 
shifted  his  gaze  toward  the  Conciergerie ;  while  the 
woman  turned  her's  heroically  toward  the  Place  de  la 
Revolution. 

What  messages  had  they  communicated  to  one  an- 
other in  that  momentary  glance  ? 

From  Robespierre,  an  agonized  cry  of  shame,  re- 
morse and  black  despair. 

From  Louise,  a  mute  assurance  of  pity,  sympathy 
and  pardon. 

In  the  meantime,  the  people,  who  were  accompany- 
ing the  tumbrils  to  the  place  of  execution,  now  turned 
in  their  tracks,  and  joined  the  howling  mob  that  were 
following  Robespierre  to  the  Luxembourg;  at  which 

*  In  Abbott's  History  of  the  French  Revolution,  it  is  related 
that,  while  Robespierre  was  on  his  way  to  the  Luxembourg,  he 
passed  a  number  of  tumbrils  conveying  victims  to  the  place  of 
execution. 


WITHIN   SIGHT   OF  THE   GUILLOTINE.          259 

the  stalwart  driver,  in  charge  of  Louvet's  tumbril, 
chuckled  with  satisfaction  and  muttered : 

"Nothing  could  have  happened  more  fortunately." 

As  the  tumbrils  were  leaving  the  Place  du  Carrousel, 
the  maid,  Marie,  who  had  hitherto  borne  up  bravely, 
began  to  tremble  and  weep;  whereupon  Louise  placed 
her  arm  lovingly  around  her,  and  kissing  the  tears 
from  her  white  face,  said  consolingly : 

"Courage,  my  dear  sister!  If  you  love  me,  you 
would  not  wish  to  abandon  me;  but  would  rather  re- 
joice to  share  my  fate." 

"Ah,  mademoiselle,"  replied  Marie,  dejectedly,  "you 
are  a  great  and  noble  lady,  while  I  am  but  a  poor  and 
humble  maid." 

"Nevertheless,  we  are  devoted  sisters." 

And  Louise  again  embraced  her  faithful  maid. 

She  next  turned  with  a  radiant  smile  toward  her 
father,  who  had  fully  regained  his  courage  and  lofty 
bearing,  and  was  endeavoring  to  console  the  little  girl 
beside  him. 

"My  dear,  brave  father!"  she  exclaimed,  in  tones  of 
affection.  "But  a  momentary  parting,  and  then  an 
eternity  of  bliss  together — is  it  not  so  ?" 

M.  Vauban  answered  serenely: 

"It  is  true,  my  darling  child !" 

By  this  time  the  tumbrils  were  proceeding  slowly 
toward  a  boulevard  which  led  directly  to  the  Place  de 
la  Revolution,  and  as  they  rumbled  over  the  pavement, 
the  people  who  lived  in  the  houses  along  the  way, 
emerged  from  their  doors,  and  followed  after  them. 


20O  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

Thus  a  second  mob  was  gradually  formed  to  accom- 
pany them  to  the  scene  of  death. 

Having  consoled  and  encouraged  her  maid  and  be- 
loved father,  Louise  glanced  timidly  toward  Jean  Lou- 
vet.  Noticing  an  expression  of  profound  dejection 
upon  his  resolute  face,  she  drew  near,  and  placed  a 
hand  gently  upon  his  arm,  saying : 

"Do  not  give  away  to  despair,  Jean,  for  I'm  sure 
everything  has  happened  for  the  best." 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  called  him  by  his  bap- 
tismal name,  and  it  produced  a  marvelous  effect  upon 
his  spirits. 

"God  bless  you,  Mademoiselle  Louise!"  he  replied 
softly.  "You  have  made  me  very,  very  happy." 

"Do  you  really  mean  that?"  she  asked  eagerly. 

"I  do,  and  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  mad- 
emoiselle !" 

"Tell  me  how  I  have  made  you  happy,  Jean  ?" 

There  was  a  slight  tremor  in  Louvet's  voice,  as  he 
answered  faintly: 

"You  have  blessed  me  with  your  friendship.  You 
have  forgiven  my  failure  to  save  you,  and,  further- 
more, you  have  graciously  permitted  me  to  die  with 
you,  Mademoiselle  Vauban." 

She  took  both  his  hands  in  hers,  and  looked  straight 
into  his  eyes. 

"My  dear  Jean,"  she  said,  "do  you  think  that  is  quite 
fair?" 

He  returned  her  gaze  with  a  perplexed  look. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  he  answered. 

"Ah,  I  see  I  must  explain,"  she  said  with  an  angelic 


WITHIN  StGHf  Otf  T&E  dtJiLLOTINfe.         ±6l 

smile.  "I  mean,  dearest  Jean,  that  we  have  become 
such  perfect  friends,  that  all  formality  should  cease 
between  us.  You  are  no  longer  Monsieur  Louvet  to  me, 
but  my  beloved  brother,  Jean,  and  it  grieves  me  to  have 
you  still  address  me  as  mademoiselle." 

"You  are  very  kind,  my  friend,"  was  the  young 
man's  tremulous  response;  "but  I  dare  not  trust  my- 
self to  address  you  so  familiarly.  You  might  guess  a 
sacred  secret  that  I  am  endeavoring  to  hide  for  your 
sake.  For  I  would  not  embitter  your  last  moments  by 
betraying  it." 

While  he  was  uttering  these  words,  the  tumbril 
turned  into  the  boulevard  and  the  Place  de  la  Revolu- 
tion appeared  in  view.  At  the  same  instant  the  girl 
raised  her  eyes  and  shuddered. 

For  the  gaunt  frame  of  the  guillotine  loomed  darkly 
before  her. 

"Oh,  Jean,  my  beloved  Jean!"  she  cried,  suddenly 
throwing  off  all  maidenly  restraint.  "Can  it  be  possible 
that  you  do  not  love  me  after  all  ?  Look,  yonder  stands 
the  guillotine !  In  a  few  moments  we  must  be  parted 
forever.  Can  you  die  without  showing  me  your  heart  ?" 

Still  holding  his  hands,  she  pressed  them  close  to  her 
throbbing  bosom,  exclaiming  passionately : 

"Oh,  God,  how  I  love  this  man !" 

Unmindful  of  the  taunting  crowd  that  surged  round 
the  death  carts;  regardless  of  the  spectators  in  the 
houses;  of  his  fellow  prisoners;  and  of  the  watchful 
guards  who  rode  beside  them,  Jean  Louvet  clasped  her 
yielding  form  close  to  his  heart,  and  whispered  in  tones 
of  indescribable  tenderness : 


262  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

"Louise !    My  beloved !" 

An  ineffable  smile,  accompanied  by  a  sigh  of  infinite 
contentment,  was  her  only  answer  to  his  words. 

For  a  brief  moment,  the  crowd;  the  tumbrils;  the 
guards ;  the  curious  faces  looking  down  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  houses ;  even  the  terrible  guillotine,  which 
they  were  fast  approaching,  disappeared  from  their 
consciousness,  like  the  phantasms  of  a  dream,  and  they 
lived  in  an  elysium  of  happiness. 

From  this  blissful  state,  the  young  man  was  the  first 
to  awaken ;  for  his  eyes,  chancing  to  wander  for  a  mo- 
ment to  the  shouting  people,  recognized  the  ferocious 
countenance  of  Jacques  the  Blacksmith,  grinning  up  at 
him  with  an  expression  of  savage  delight.  Then  he 
instantly  remembered  the  terrible  fate  toward  which 
his  beloved  was  hastening,  and  cried  out  in  anguish : 

"Oh,  why  can  I  not  die  for  us  both  ?" 

"Because  it  is  far  sweeter  to  perish  together,  dear 
Jean,"  answered  Louise,  in  a  gentle  whisper. 

Then,  looking  into  his  eyes  with  passionate  intensity, 
as  if  she  would  penetrate  the  deepest  secrets  of  his 
soul,  she  asked  suddenly: 

"Tell  me,  my  own,  true  Jean ! — Do  you  believe  in  a 
merciful  God?" 

"With  the  implicit  faith  of  a  child,"  he  answered. 

"Then  I  do  not  fear  to  die;  for  we  can  love  each 
other  through  countless  ages,"  she  sighed  contentedly. 

And  Louvet  whispered  gently : 

"Through  all  eternity." 

At  that  instant  a  deep  voice  in  the  crowd  shouted 
fiercely : 


WITHIN  SIGHT  OF  THE  GUILLOTINE.         263 

"Make  way  there!  Stand  aside,  or  we'll  split  ye 
like  pullets  with  our  pikes !" 

Glancing  quickly  over  his  shoulder,  Louvet  beheld  a 
sight  that  filled  him  with  alarm.  Jacques  the  Blacksmith 
at  the  head  of  a  mob  of  red-capped  citizens  armed  with 
pikes,  clubs  and  axes,  was  clearing  a  way  through  the 
throng  toward  the  entrance  of  a  narrow  street  that  led 
from  the  boulevard  toward  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 

A  moment  afterward,  two  masked  men  sprang  out 
of  the  crowd,  and,  seizing  the  bridles  of  the  horses 
ridden  by  the  nearest  guardsmen,  leveled  pistols  at  the 
soldiers,  bawling: 

"Turn  aside  as  you  value  your  lives !" 

As  if  these  bold  manoeuvres  were  not  sufficient 
to  arouse  astonishment,  the  driver  of  their  tumbril 
turned  suddenly  to  the  right,  and,  applying  the  whip 
mercilessly  to  the  flanks  of  his  horses,  started  furi- 
ously toward  the  narrow  street  above  mentioned. 

Barely  had  the  tumbril  passed  into  this  byway,  before 
its  entrance  was  closed  by  red-capped  pikemen,  who 
formed  a  solid  phalanx  from  corner  to  corner. 

And  now  a  strange  thing  happened. 

The  occupants  of  the  death-cart,  who,  but  a  few  mo- 
ments before,  were  going,  with  courage  and  resigna- 
tion, to  certain  death,  were  terror-stricken  at  this  un- 
expected change  in  the  programme,  and  began  to 
shriek  loudly  for  help. 

In  justice  to  Jean  Louvet  and  his  friends,  however, 
it  should  be  stated  that  they  did  not  join  in  the  clamor 
of  their  companions,  although  they  were  equally  over- 
come with  surprise.  Louvet,  in  particular,  had  ample 


264  TtiE  MAN  WHO 

cause  for  apprehension,  for  was  not  Jacques  the  Black- 
smith the  chief  instigator  of  the  riot  ? 

It  was  probable,  he  argued,  that  this  fanatic  had 
discovered  the  deception  he  had  played  upon  him  on 
the  day  the  Convention  had  denounced  him,  and  that 
he  had  organized  a  party  of  his  adherents  to  rescue  him, 
in  order  to  wreak  a  private  vengeance  upon  his  de- 
ceiver. That  the  man  was  capable  of  such  a  daring 
act  he  well  knew. 

Faster  and  faster  sped  the  tumbril,  jolting  over  the 
rough  pavement  with  such  a  clatter  that  the  entire 
street  was  awakened.  Windows  flew  open  and  heads 
were  thrust  out  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  tumult; 
while  shouts  and  cries  of  amazement  arose  from  a 
thousand  spectators,  on  seeing  the  death-cart  dash  by. 

Louvet  turned  angrily  to  the  driver. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?"  he  asked  sternly. 

"Be  silent!"  was  the  growling  response.  "You  are 
in  the  hands  of  friends  who  wish  to  save  you.  Let 
that  be  sufficient !" 

It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  heard  that  voice  before ; 
but  he  could  not  remember  where.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  man's  figure  that  seemed  familiar  also, 
although  this  was  probably  a  mere  fancy.  Presently 
the  driver  growled  back  at  him  this  bit  of  advice : 

"Tell  your  friends  to  cease  their  bawling,  or  I'll 
dump  them  out  into  the  street." 

Louvet  complied  with  this  command  immediately, 
and,  by  adding  a  few  encouraging  words  of  his  own, 
succeeded  in  quieting  the  terrified  prisoners. 

After  proceeding  at  a  rapid  pace  for  some  distance, 


WITHIN  SIGHT  OF  THE  GUILLOTINE.         265 

the  driver  wheeled  into  a  winding  street,  which  Louvet 
recognized  at  once  as  the  ancient  thoroughfare  on 
which  stood  the  Maison  Rousseau. 

Then  it  dawned  upon  him  suddenly  that  his  agents 
had  conspired  for  his  rescue.  He  was  so  sure  of  this 
that  he  again  bent  forward  toward  the  driver  and  whis- 
pered :* 

"Who  are  you?  Your  Chief  commands  you  to  an- 
swer!" 

The  man  turned  partly  around,  and  muttered: 

"I  am  known  as  Simon  the  Jailer." 

Louvet  was  completely  dumfounded;  for,  although 
he  was  aware  of  the  fidelity  of  his  followers,  he  did 
not  think  them  capable  of  such  supreme  daring. 

How  had  they  managed  to  incite  a  riot  in  his  behalf? 
And  Jacques  the  Blacksmith — how  had  they  induced 
such  a  rabid  idolater  of  Robespierre  to  assist  them  in 
their  scheme? 

While  he  was  endeavoring  to  find  an  answer  to  these 
questions,  the  tumbril  turned  into  the  narrow  lane 
which  led  to  the  garden  in  the  rear  of  Dr.  Narbonne's 
residence.  On  reaching  the  enclosure,  the  driver  reined 
in  his  horses,  and,  leaping  to  the  ground,  beckoned 
Jean  Louvet  to  approach  him. 

"You  know  as  well  as  I,  Chief,"  he  said,  when  they 
were  alone,  "that  it  will  be  impossible  to  admit  all  these 
strangers  into  our  hiding-place.  Not  only  is  it  against 

*  That  a  tumbril  on  ^its  way  to  the  Place  de  la  Revolution 
was  rescued  by  the  populace,  on  the  ninth  of  Thermidor  (the 
day  of  Robespierre's  downfall),  is  an  historical  fact  accepted  by 
many  historians. 


266  THE  MAN  WHO  DARfcD. 

the  rules  of  our  band  to  do  this,  but  it  would  be,  in 
this  case,  an  act  of  positive  folly.  Please  remember 
we  have  imperiled  our  lives  to  save  you,  and  no  one 
else." 

Louvet  turned  away  from  him  disdainfully. 

"In  that  case,"  he  said,  "you  risked  your  lives  in 
vain.  I  will  return  to  my  friends  at  once;  for,  rather 
than  abandon  them,  I  will  perish  in  their  company." 

And  he  started  to  return  to  the  tumbril. 

"One  moment!"  cried  Simon,  anxiously,  on  per- 
ceiving his  Chief's  determination.  "Can  these  com- 
rades of  yours  be  trusted  ?" 

"I  will  answer  for  them  with  my  life!"  exclaimed 
Louvet  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"In  that  case,"  said  Simon  the  Jailer,  "I  have  noth- 
ing further  to  say  against  their  admission." 

With  these  words,  he  returned  with  Louvet  to  the 
tumbril,  and  assisted  the  prisoners  to  the  ground.  Then 
he  helped  them  over  the  wall  into  the  garden,  and  left 
them  in  charge  of  his  Chief ;  for  it  was  a  matter  of  im- 
portance to  their  safety  that  he  should  drive  off  with 
the  death-cart  at  once. 

Scarcely  had  he  taken  his  departure,  when  Jean 
Louvet  beckoned  the  prisoners  to  follow,  and  led  them 
to  the  secret  door  in  the  rear  of  the  Maison  Rousseau. 
His  summons  for  admittance  was  immediately  an- 
swered. 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  them,  and  he  real- 
ized that  his  friends  were  out  of  danger,  his  joy  was 
too  great  for  him  to  bear. 

"Saved  at  last !  Saved !"  he  cried,  in  an  ecstasy ;  then 
broke  out  into  a  wild  paroxysm  of  sobs. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 
THE  GAME  STILL  DOUBTFUL. 

SAVED  ? 

Undoubtedly  Jean  Lou  vet  was  justified  in  so  be- 
lieving; and  yet  his  work  was  by  no  means  finished. 

He  had  seen  the  despotic  Robespierre  pass  by  him 
on  his  way  to  prison.  He  had  heard  the  mad  outcries 
of  the  people,  as  they  hurled  curses  and  maledictions 
upon  his  head;  nevertheless,  he  had  not  taken  into 
consideration  that  the  tyrant  had  many  powerful 
friends  still  at  large  who  would  certainly  exert  their 
utmost  efforts  to  save  him.  Among  these  may  be 
mentioned  the  Mayor  of  Paris,  General  Henriot,  the 
Commander  of  the  National  Guards,  and  the  entire 
Club  of  Jacobins  who  idolized  him  to  a  man. 

In  fact,  even  while  Robespierre  was  on  his  way  to 
the  Luxembourg,  these  friends  were  taking  active 
measures  to  incite  an  insurrection  on  behalf  of  the 
despot  and  his  associates.  Jacobin  orators  were  des- 
patched in  all  directions  to  arouse  the  populace  by 
impassioned  speeches.  Henriot,  followed  by  a  troop 
of  Municipal  Gendarmes,  galloped  along  the  quais, 
calling  upon  everyone  to  join  him  in  rescuing  the  pris- 
oners. The  Commune  of  Paris  was  sitting  in  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  deliberating  in  open  rebellion  to  the 

[267] 


tHE  MAN  \Vtf6  t)ARKt>. 

government,  and  finally  issuing,  as  if  authorized  to  do 
so,  the  following  proclamation  to  the  citizens : 

"Brothers  and  friends !  The  country  is  in  imminent 
danger!  The  wicked  have  mastered  the  Convention, 
where  they  hold  in  chains  the  virtuous  Robespierre. 
To  arms !  To  arms !  Let  us  not  lose  the  fruits  of  the 
eighteenth  of  August  and  the  second  of  July." 

Half  maddened  with  drink,  Henriot  continued  his 
furious  course  from  street  to  street,  and,  at  last,  gal- 
loped to  the  Luxembourg  to  rescue  his  friends.  On 
the  way  he  encountered  the  troops  of  the  Convention, 
who  seized  him,  bound  him  with  their  belts,  and  threw 
him  into  a  guard-house  dead  drunk. 

Meanwhile,  Robespierre  and  his  associates  had  been 
rescued  by  the  mob,  and  carried  in  triumph  to  the 
Mayor's  room  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville. 

While  these  events  were  transpiring  in  the  heart  of 
Paris,  Jean  Louvet  and  his  friends  were  resting  in 
fancied  security  in  the  Maison  Rousseau.  One  of  his 
agents  having  arrived  with  intelligence  that  the 
National  Convention,  exhausted  with  the  day's  battle, 
had  adjourned  at  five  o'clock,  for  repose  and  suste- 
nance, he  naturally  inferred  that  Robespierre's  en- 
emies had  gained  a  complete  victory,  and  that  there 
was  no  longer  the  least  cause  for  anxiety. 

Louise  and  her  maid  had  retired  with  the  little  girl 
to  sleep;  the  other  rescued  prisoners  were  sitting  to- 
gether in  a  large  apartment  assigned  to  them,  ques- 
tioning one  another  and  indulging  in  the  wildest 
conjectures  regarding  their  marvelous  escape;  while 
Louvet,  M.  Vauban  and  Dr.  Narbonne  were  closeted 


THE  GAME  STILL  DOUBTFUL.  269 

together  in  the  latter's  study,  endeavoring  to  formulate 
a  practicable  scheme  to  enable  the  late  prisoners  to  re- 
tire from  Paris  until  the  times  became  more  settled. 

Suddenly  the  dismal  tolling  of  the  tocsin  burst  forth 
from  the  neighboring  steeples,  and  the  rolling  of 
drums  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  summer  evening. 
Shortly  afterwards  a  low,  ominous  murmur  arose  from 
every  narrow  lane  and  street  of  St.  Antoine,  gradually 
increasing  in  volume,  until  there  was  no  mistaking  its 
significance.  At  last  the  sounds  could  be  heard  ap- 
proaching their  place  of  refuge,  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  and  filling  the  hearts  of  the  listeners  with 
dismay. 

"What  means  this  clamor?"  asked  Vauban  anx- 
iously. 

"  Tis  an  insurrection  of  the  masses,"  returned 
Louvet. 

"For  what  purpose  ?" 

"Probably  to  make  a  demonstration  against  Robes- 
pierre," was  the  answer. 

These  confident  words  were  rudely  interrupted 
by  the  sudden  entrance  of  Frangois  the  Idler. 
He  came  bursting  into  the  study,  pallid  with  alarm, 
and,  utterly  regardless  of  all  ceremony,  cried  out  in 
tones  of  frenzy : 

"Oh,  may  God  have  mercy  upon  us!  Robespierre 
has  triumphed,  and  we  are  lost !" 

Then  he  sank  down  panting  into  an  armchair. 

The  shock  produced  by  such  unexpected  tidings  had 
a  paralyzing  effect  on  Jean  Louvet ;  nor  was  it  until  the 
wild  tumult  of  the  mob,  who  were  now  passing  beneath 


2/0  THE   MAN   WHO   DARED. 

the  windows,  roared  in  his  ears,  that  he  regained  full 
possession  of  his  faculties. 

"Vive  Robespierre!    Down  with  the  Convention!" 

These,  and  similar  cries  aroused  him  to  a  realization 
of  the  true  state  of  affairs,  and  turning  to  Frangois  he 
asked  quickly: 

"How  has  Robespierre  triumphed?" 

"Through  the  instrumentality  of  friends,  and  his 
popularity  with  the  masses." 

"But  most  of  his  friends  were  condemned  with  him, 
and  the  populace  are  only  now  rallying  to  his  sup- 
port." 

"Nevertheless,  the  tyrant  and  his  associates  are 
at  large." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Louvet  in  alarm.  "Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  Robespierre  has  escaped  from 
prison?" 

"As  far  as  Robespierre  is  concerned,  he  never  was 
in  prison.  When  he  arrived  at  the  Luxembourg,  the 
jailer  refused  to  receive  him.  As  regards  his  asso- 
ciates, they  were  rescued  by  the  populace  at  the  insti- 
gation of  the  Jacobins." 

"And  where  is  Robespierre  now?" 

"Sitting  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  surrounded  by  his 
friends,  planning  the  recovery  of  his  power." 

"But  the  Convention  ?"  cried  Louvet  eagerly. 

"Its  members  have  just  returned  to  the  hall,  where 
they  are  now  in  session,  speechless  and  powerless 
with  terror." 

Jean  Louvet  rose  instantly  from  his  chair,  and  hur- 
ried into  his  apartment,  to  return  shortly  afterwards 


THE  GAME   STILL  DOUBTFUL.  271 

attired  as  a  Representative  of  the  people.  He  in- 
structed Francois  to  remain  in  the  house  to  take  his 
place  in  case  of  need;  then,  embracing  his  friends, 
departed  to  participate  in  the  political  struggle. 

On  reaching  the  Convention  Hall,  he  found  it  sur- 
rounded by  a  howling  mob,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  that  he  succeeded  in  gaining  admittance. 
Notwithstanding  that  he  was  an  outlaw,  under  sentence 
of  death  by  the  Convention,  his  appearance  was 
greeted  with  expressions  of  joy  from  its  members. 
Walking  quickly  down  the  aisle,  he  took  his  place  in 
his  former  seat.  Then  he  began  to  scrutinize  the 
faces  around  him. 

Every  countenance  was  deadly  white ;  every  lip  was 
quivering  with  fear.  It  was  apparent  that  the  Rep- 
resentatives, who  had  triumphed  through  firmness  in 
the  morning,  were  on  the  verge  of  meeting  defeat 
through  their  cowardice  now.  Indeed  at  this  stage  of 
the  tragedy,  two  governments  were  contending  for 
the  mastery — Robespierre,  with  the  populace  at  his  dis- 
posal, on  one  side;  the  Convention,  with  its  friends, 
on  the  other. 

Aware  that  the  mob  was  aroused  to  fury,  and  that 
the  National  Guard,  under  Henriot,  were  marching 
against  the  Convention  Hall,  the  Representatives  were 
appalled  at  their  danger;  for  they  realized  that  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal,  which  alone  could  condemn 
the  despot,  might,  through  fear  of  the  people,  acquit 
him  by  acclamation.  If  this  thing  should  happen, 
Robespierre  would  be  led  back  in  triumph  to  the  Con- 


272  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

vention  and  would  immediately  send  his  opponents 
to  the  guillotine. 

vSmall  wonder  that,  in  view  of  this  peril,  the  Rep- 
resentatives trembled  in  their  seats;  for  the  most 
ominous  warnings  reached  their  ears  from  time  to 
time.  Messengers  brought  them  word  that  the  Ja- 
cobin Club  had  met,  and  taken  an  oath  to  live  or  die 
with  Robespierre. 

Again  it  was  reported  that  the  masses  were  crowd- 
ing in  from  the  Faubourgs,  and  that  three  thousand 
young  students  had  risen  in  arms  as  a  body-guard  for 
the  despot.  To  add  further  to  their  dismay,  the  tocsin 
resounded  far  and  near,  calling  upon  the  people  to 
defend  the  man  whom  their  Representatives  had  ac- 
cused. 

In  this  terrible  crisis,  the  Convention,  nerved  by 
despair,  remained  firmly  in  their  seats,  well  knowing 
that  boldness  alone  could  save  them  from  destruction. 

"Here  is  our  post  of  duty,  and  here  we  will  die!" 
they  declared;  while  their  friends  rushed  forth  to 
rally  defenders  for  the  law.* 

On  hearing  this  noble  resolve,  Jean  Louvet  called 
loudly  for  a  hearing,  and  President  Collot  who  was 
presiding,  willingly  granted  it. 

"We  have  all  sworn  to  die  at  our  posts,"  shouted 
Louvet  in  vibrant  tones.  "But  that  is  no  reason  why 
we  should  not  resist  unto  the  end.  I  have  a  measure 
to  propose  which  may  possibly  save  us  from  destruc- 
tion." Then,  casting  a  sweeping  glance  that  embraced 
all  present,  he  added — "May  I  propose  it,  citizens?" 

*  Abbott's  French  Revolution. 


THE   GAME   STILL  DOUBTFUL.  2/3 

"Proceed !    We  are  listening !"  they  replied, 

Jean  Louvet  bowed  his  thanks  and  resumed : 

"In  view  of  the  danger  that  threatens  the  Republic, 
I  move  that  Robespierre  and  his  partisans  be  declared 
outlaws,  and  that  all  who  support  him  in  his  rebellion, 
be  outlawed  as  well." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  these  words,  he  quietly 
sank  back  into  his  seat,  and  awaited  the  impression 
his  proposition  had  made  upon  the  Convention. 

For  several  seconds  not  a  sound  broke  the  silence. 

Then  a  spontaneous  burst  of  approval  shook  the 
hall.  Not  only  was  Robespierre  outlawed,  but  a  num- 
ber of  his  supporters  as  well,  among  them,  Henriot, 
who  was  at  that  moment  threatening  the  Convention 
Hall  with  his  troops.  This  brutal  wretch,  having  slept 
off  a  first  debauch  in  the  guardhouse,  had  been  rescued 
by  Judge  Coffinhal,  Vice-President  of  the  Revolution- 
ary Tribunal.  Returning  immediately  to  his  soldiers, 
and  again  drinking  himself  into  a  state  of  intoxication, 
he  marched  boldly  to  the  Convention  Hall,  and  or- 
dered the  doors  blown  open  with  his  artillery. 

At  this  critical  moment,  Jean  Louvet  left  the  hall, 
with  several  other  Representatives  close  behind  him. 
On  reaching  the  street  outside,  he  ran  quickly  toward 
the  cannon,  and  took  a  position  directly  in  front  of 
the  artillerymen. 

"Stand  aside,  if  you  value  your  life!  Don't  you 
see  we  are  about  to  fire  ?" 

And  one  of  the  gunners  approached  his  cannon  with 
a  lighted  match, 


274  THE   MAN   "\VIIO   DARED. 

Jean  Louvet  regarded  him  fearlessly. 

"One  moment,  my  brave  fellow !"  he  said. 

Then,  seeing  that  the  other  hesitated,  he  broke  out 
scornfully : 

"Soldiers!  Look  at  that  drunken  man!" — here  he 
pointed  dramatically  at  Henriot — "Who  but  a  drunk- 
ard would  ever  point  his  arms  against  his  country,  or 
its  Representatives?  Will  you,  who  have  ever  de- 
served so  much  from  your  country,  cast  shame  and 
dishonor  on  her  now?" 

The  soldiers  began  to  waver. 

Henriot  instantly  lost  his  courage,  put  spurs  to  his 
horse  and  galloped  furiously  toward  the  Hotel  de 
Ville.  The  Convention,  in  the  meantime,  having  ap- 
pointed Barras  to  the  command  of  the  National 
Guards,  he  strode  forth  and  accepted  the  responsibility 
without  hesitation. 

Thus  was  the  tide  of  affairs  turned  suddenly  in  favor 
of  the  Convention. 

Marching  rapidly  through  the  streets  of  Paris, 
Barras  rallied  the  citizens  around  him,  and,  having 
dispersed  several  bands  of  Robespierre's  supporters, 
proceeded  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where  the  outlaw  was 
then  holding  court. 

During  the  time  since  he  had  regained  his  liberty, 
he  was  repeatedly  urged  to  authorize  an  insurrection, 
in  order  to  accomplish  a  signal  triumph  over  the  Con- 
vention; yet,  notwithstanding  the  most  urgent  en- 
treaties of  the  Jacobins  and  the  Municipal  Govern- 
ment, he  had  persistently  refused  to  encourage  or  to 
accept  such  lawless  means. 


THE   GAME   STILL  DOUBTFUL,  2/5 

"I  am  resolved,"  he  replied,  heroically,  "either  to 
triumph  or  fall  by  submission  to  the  law  only.  I  firmly 
helieve  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal  will  acquit  me. 
But,"  he  added  calmly,  "if  they  should  decide  to  con- 
demn me  to  death,  the  death  of  one  just  man  is  less 
hurtful  to  the  Republic  than  the  example  of  a  revolt 
against  the  National  Convention."* 

Were  these  words  spoken  in  sincerity;  or  were  they 
uttered  hypocritically  in  full  confidence  of  his  ultimate 
triumph  ? 

These  questions  have  remained  unanswered. 

The  scene  that  followed  the  appearance  of  Barras 
before  the  Hotel  de  Ville  is  too  well  known  to  be 
repeated  here  in  detail.  As  the  soldiers  were  ascend- 
ing the  stairs,  Lebas  committed  suicide  by  shooting 
himself  through  the  heart.  Augustin  Robespierre 
leaped  from  a  window  into  a  courtyard  below,  break- 
ing his  leg.  Coffinhal,  enraged  in  contemplating  the 
ruin  in  which  the  drunken  imbecility  of  Henriot  had 
involved  them,  deliberately  threw  him  out  df  the 
window  on  a  pile  of  rubbish  below. 

Meanwhile,  Robespierre  sat  calmly  at  a  table  await- 
ing his  fate.  One  of  the  gendarmes  sent  to  arrest  him, 
discharged  a  pistol  at  his  head,  fracturing  his  jaw,  and 
carrying  away  several  of  his  teeth.  His  head  dropped 
upon  the  table,  deluging  the  papers  before  him  with 
blood. 

The  troops  of  the  Convention  now  filled  the  rooms 
of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  arresting  all  its  inmates.  Beside 

*  Lamar(ine. 


2/6  THE  MAN  WHO  DARED. 

Robespierre  and  his  friends,  over  eighty  members  of 
the  Municipal  Government,  bound  two  by  two  to- 
gether, completed  the  melancholy  procession  to  the 
Conciergerie. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

THE  GAME  IS  WON. 

JEAN  LOUVET  did  not  return  to  the  Maison  Rous- 
seau that  night. 

In  fact,  he  did  not  dare  to  do  so ;  for  the  entire  city 
was  in  an  uproar,  and  a  man  as  all-powerful  as  Robes- 
pierre had  been,  might  again  turn  the  tide  of  battle 
in  his  own  favor.  Through  the  dark  streets  the  gleam 
of  innumerable  torches  was  reflected,  throwing  a  lurid 
light  upon  the  multitudes  of  insurrectionists  who  had 
come  in  from  the  Faubourgs  to  the  assistance  of  the 
despot  and  his  friends. 

Several  of  these  bands  marched  in  disorder  to  dis- 
perse the  Convention ;  but,  on  finding  the  hall  strongly 
guarded  by  soldiers,  departed  elsewhere  to  join  other 
bands  and  seek  direction  under  a  suitable  leader.  In 
the  meantime,  the  friends  of  the  Convention  were  busy 
in  representing  the  exact  state  of  affairs  to  the  people, 
and  were  so  far  successful,  that,  before  the  dawn  of 
another  day,  the  fickle  Parisians  were  seduced  from 
their  allegiance  to  Robespierre,  and  had  become  his 
most  envenomed  enemies. 

About  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  of  the  tenth  of 
Thermidor  (28th  of  July),  Jean  Lou  vet  found  him- 
self in  the  vast  crowd  that  had  gathered  before  the 

[277] 


2/8  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Conciergerie  Prison,  to  await  the  coming  forth  of 
Robespierre  and  his  partisans. 

His  patience  was  not  put  to  a  severe  test,  however ; 
for,  shortly  after  his  arrival,  the  iron  gate  of  the 
prison  was  opened,  and  the  prisoners  were  led  forth 
to  take  their  places  in  the  waiting  tumbrils.  A  pro- 
found silence  was  maintained,  until  the  despot 
emerged  through  the  gateway,  stretched  upon  a  litter, 
borne  by  four  jailers.  His  fractured  jaw  was  bound 
up  by  a  dirty  handkerchief,  steeped  in  blood. 

After  him  came  Couthon,  a  paralytic.  Unable  to 
walk  he  was  carried  in  the  arms  of  two  jailers.  Robes- 
pierre, the  younger,  still  insensible  from  his  desperate 
leap  from  the  window,  was  conveyed  in  the  arms  of  two 
others,  with  his  broken  limb  hanging  helplessly  down, 
and  trailing  along  the  ground.  Next  came  the  corpse 
of  Lebas,  covered  with  a  tablecloth  spotted  with  his 
blood.  In  the  rear  of  this  frightful  procession 
marched  St.  Just,  bareheaded,  with  dejected  coun- 
tenance, his  hands  bound  tightly  behind  him. 

At  the  sight  of  these  unhappy  men  the  crowd  broke 
forth  into  the  most  furious  outcries.  Against  Robes- 
pierre in  particular  the  people  vented  their  rage.  He 
cast  reproachful  glances  upon  them  as  he  was  lifted 
into  a  tumbril;  but  never  uttered  one  word  in  ex- 
tenuation of  his  acts. 

On  reaching  the  Tuileries,  he  was  laid  upon  a  table 
in  an  ante-room,  where  he  was  submitted  to  the  most 
frightful  mental  tortures.  An  interminable  crowd 
pressed  into  the  apartment  past  the  guards,  actuated 
by  a  morbid  curiosity  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  fallen 


THE  GAME  is  WON.  279 

dictator.  Men  and  women  surged  around  him,  like  the 
waves  of  the  sea,  overwhelming'  him  with  reproaches, 
curses  and  insults. 

In  the  extremity  of  his  anguish,  Robespierre  feigned 
death,  hoping  by  this  means  to  escape  the  execrations 
of  his  tormentors.* 

When  Louvet  arrived  at  the  Tuileries,  and  beheld 
the  agony  of  his  enemy,  tears  of  pity  welled  up  in  his 
eyes.  The  blood  was  flowing  freely  from  the  despot's 
fractured  jaw,  trickling  down  his  throat  and  choking 
him.  The  day  was  intensely  hot,  and  the  suffering 
wretch  was  tormented  with  an  insatiable  thirst  that 
parched  his  feverish  lips. 

Thus  did  the  author  of  so  much  suffering  to  others, 
remain  for  more  than  an  hour,  enduring  the  most  ex- 
cruciating pangs  of  bodily  and  mental  anguish. 

At  the  expiration  of  this  period,  he  and  his  con- 
federates were  removed  to  the  chamber  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  General  Safety  for  examination;  then  back 
to  the  Conciergerie  to  endure  a  few  additional  hours 
of  suffering;  finally  before  that  merciless  Tribunal 
which  was  but  the  last  stepping  stone  to  death.  Their 
trial  lasted  but  a  few  moments ;  for,  as  they  were  al- 
ready outlawed  and  condemned,  it  was  merely  neces- 
sary to  establish  their  identity. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Jean  Louvet  was 
standing  on  the  steps  of  a  building,  fronting  the  Place 
de  la  Revolution,  awaiting  the  final  act  in  the  stupen- 
dous drama  he  had  set  in  motion.  Not  far  from  his 
elevated  position  rose  the  frightful  scaffold  of  the  guil- 
*  Abbott's  French  Revolution. 


280  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

lotine.  Samson,  the  executioner,  was  pacing  from  side 
to  side  of  the  platform,  his  arms  bared  and  crossed 
upon  his  brawny  chest,  and  a  filthy  red  cap  pulled 
down  over  his  eyes,  half  concealing  his  ferocious  coun- 
tenance. At  intervals  he  paused  in  his  walk  to  glance 
down  upon  the  crowd  below,  or  exchange  a  merry  jest 
with  some  friend  he  recognized. 

Never  before  had  Louvet  seen  such  a  vast  multitude 
of  people  as  that  which  now  surged  around  the  guil-" 
lotine.  It  seemed  that  Paris  had  vomited  forth,  from 
all  her  slums  and  purlieus,  the  most  abandoned  and 
wicked  of  her  children — wretches  who  lived  by  crime, 
violence  and  insurrection. 

Every  window  in  the  neighboring  houses,  that  com- 
manded an  unobstructed  view  of  the  engine  of  death, 
was  filled  with  expectant  faces.  The  fortunate  citizens 
who  had  secured  such  advantageous  positions,  shouted 
scoffingly  at  the  multitude  below,  while  the  ragged 
wretches,  who  composed  the  throng,  returned  their 
jests  with  outbursts  of  jovial  laughter. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  an  approaching  tumult 
reached  the  crowded  square,  and  every  voice  was 
hushed  in  an  instant. 

It  was  apparent  that  the  long  looked-for  procession 
was  approaching.  In  a  few  minutes  a  body  of  mounted 
troops  appeared  in  the  Place  de  la  Revolution,  and 
began  making  a  passage  to  the  guillotine  by  striking 
the  people  with  the  flat  of  their  sabres,  and  forcing 
them  back.  They  were  quickly  followed  by  the  death 
carts  bearing  Robespierre  and  his  partisans. 

On  beholding  the  condemned,  the  fickle  crowd  burst 


THE  GAME  IS  WON.  28 1 

out  into  a  terrific  uproar,  surging  round  the  tumbril 
occupied  by  Robespierre,  and  heaping  imprecations 
upon  the  defeated  man,  to  whom  they  would  have 
shouted  hosannas  had  be  been  the  victor.  From  his 
coign  of  vantage,  Jean  Louvet  beheld  the  entrance  of 
his  enemy  into  the  square.  The  tyrant,  his  brother, 
Couthon,  Henriot,  all  mangled,  bleeding  and  with 
broken  bones,  were  in  the  first  cart,  with  the  corpse 
of  Lebas.  As  it  jolted  over  the  uneven  pavement, 
shrieks  of  anguish  arose  from  the  wounded  victims. 

"May  God  have  mercy  upon  them !"  exclaimed  Lou- 
vet  in  tones  of  sympathy.  "They  are  enduring  the 
sufferings  of  the  damned." 

Just  as  the  first  tumbril  reached  the  steps  of  the  guil- 
lotine, a  clock  in  a  steeple  near  by,  struck  six. 

Then  the  following  events  happened  with  marvelous 
rapidity. 

Robespierre  was  lifted  from  the  death  cart,  and 
conducted  to  the  steps  leading  to  the  engine  of  death. 
He  ascended  the  scaffold  with  a  firm,  quick  step. 

Was  it  feared  that  at  the  last  moment  he  might  call 
upon  the  populace  to  rescue  him  ? 

If  he  had  such  an  intention,  he  was  not  granted  the 
time  to  carry  it  out ;  for,  no  sooner  had  he  reached  the 
platform,  than  the  executioner  sprang  forward,  and 
brutally  tore  the  bloody  bandage  from  his  wound. 

Jean  Louvet,  yyhose  eyes  were  still  fixed  upon  him, 
beheld  his  fractured  jaw  drop  down  in  a  ghastly  man- 
ner, and  at  the  same  time  heard  a  shriek  of  frightful 
agony. 

He  turned  away  in  horror  from  the  scene. 


282  THE   MAN  WHO   DARED. 

Then  he  heard  the  sullen  sound  of  the  falling  axe, 
and,  when  he  again  looked  toward  the  scaffold,  the 
head  of  the  great  Robespierre  had  fallen  into  the 
basket. 

Thus  died  Maximilian  Robespierre  in  the  thirty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age;  a  man  whose  real  character 
must  ever  remain  shadowy  and  undefined. 

To  the  refugees  in  the  Maison  Rousseau,  his  death 
meant  the  end  of  sufferings.  M.  Vauban  had  another 
trial  which  resulted  in  his  complete  vindication,  and 
his  reinstatement  in  his  seat  in  the  Convention. 

As  for  Jean  Louvet,  he  resigned  from  that  body 
despite  the  protests  of  the  men  he  had  saved  from 
death,  while  Dr.  Narbonne  and  his  patients  disap- 
peared from  the  Maison  Rousseau  and  left  Paris.  It 
is  said,  however,  that  they  returned  to  the  city  when 
the  emigres  were  recalled  by  Napoleon. 


"My  beloved  Jean,"  asked  Louise  Vauban  on  the 
day  before  their  wedding,  "I  have  long  suspected  that 
you  are  not  what  you  seem.  Tell  me,  is  your  name 
really  Jean  Louvet  ?" 

The  young  man  smiled. 

"I  perceive  how  it  is,"  he  answered;  "you  believe 
it  wrong  for  a  husband  to  have  any  secrets  from  his 
wife.  And  you  are  right."  Placing  his  arm  affection- 
ately round  her  waist,  he  added  softly,  "No,  Louise, 
my  real  name  is  not  Jean  Louvet." 

"Then  what  is  it,  dearest?" 


THE  GAME  IS  WON.  283 

"Will  you  promise  not  to  denounce  me,  if  I  tell 
you?" 

"How  absurd  you  are,"  she  murmured.  "You  know 
very  well  I'll  not  denounce  you." 

"Well,  in  that  case,  I  will  tell  you  my  secret,"  he 
said  with  a  happy  laugh.  "Know,  my  dearest  Louise, 
that  I  am  the  Duke  of  Lamorelle,  an  aristocrat  and 
royalist  to  the  heart's  core." 

The  girl's  cheeks  glowed  with  pleasure,  for  she  was 
not  half  the  staunch  republican  that  she  seemed. 

"And  Dr.  Narbonne  and  his  mysterious  patients, 
who  are  they?" 

"All  men  of  noble  birth  like  myself,"  was  the  reply. 

"But  Simon,  Andre  and  Frangois?" 

"They  also  are  titled  personages." 

Then  he  told  her  how  they  had  elected  him  as  their 
Chief,  and  had  come  to  Paris  to  act  as  secret  agents 
for  the  exiled  royal  family. 

"And,  dearest,"  he  concluded  fervently,  "we  must 
be  forever  grateful  to  those  three  brave  men;  for  it 
was  they  who  incited  the  riot  that  saved  our  lives.  It 
was  Simon,  Andre  and  Frangois  who  rescued  us  from 
the  guillotine." 

"It  all  seems  so  wonderful,"  she  said  after  a  pause. 
"I  cannot  imagine  how  they  accomplished  it." 

"It  was  Frangois'  idea,"  was  the  Duke  of  Lamo- 
relle's  reply.  "You  see,  he  had  artfully  converted  a 
fellow,  who  is  known  as  Jacques  the  Blacksmith,  into 
a  bitter  enemy  of  Robespierre,  and  consequently  into 
a  friend  of  mine.  This  man  was  easily  persuaded  to 
surround  our  tumbril  with  his  followers,  and  hold  the 


284  THE  MAN  WHO   DARED. 

guards  in  check,  until  we  had  effected  our  escape.  In 
the  meantime,  our  good  friend,  Simon,  had  bribed 
the  driver  of  one  of  the  tumbrils  to  allow  him  to  change 
places  with  him  for  that  day.  On  reaching  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  he  fell  in  with  the  friendly  jailer,  and  bribed 
him  to  conduct  us  to  his  cart.  Andre  and  another  of 
my  band  were  the  masked  men  who  intimidated  the 
guards  in  charge  of  our  tumbril.  It  was  a  daring  and 
clever  plot,  was  it  not  ?" 

"Yes ;  but  not  half  so  daring  as  the  game  of  politics 
yo/u  won  against  the  tyrant  Robespierre,"  replied 
Louise,  gazing  up  at  him  admiringly. 


THE  END. 


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